


a two-hearted dream

by Merlinnn



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Anthropomorphic, Blood Drinking, Car Accidents, Crows, Dreams, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Grief/Mourning, grief recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:54:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 33,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24699412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merlinnn/pseuds/Merlinnn
Summary: Damon appears in Elena's dreams as a crow and soon they become something like friends, or as close as one can get to a sentient bird.AKA - Damon appears as a crow for like 2 minutes in the pilot episode and I wrote 30k of words about Damon existing as a crow oops
Relationships: Elena Gilbert/Damon Salvatore, Elena Gilbert/Stefan Salvatore
Comments: 4
Kudos: 27





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hey guys, quarantine hit everyone hard and i survived by rewatching TVD and writing an obscene amount of fic (this being the longest fic I've literally ever written!)
> 
> 1\. first things first, there will be eventual smut, and where I'm from (the UK) everyone is of age and in canon Stefan/Elena do sleep together during Season 1, so it's not unreasonable for Damon/Elena to sleep together; however Elena is still only 17 so if that squicks you then fair warning
> 
> 2\. title comes from 'Sleep Alone' by Bat for Lashes
> 
> 3\. the main ship/endgame here is Damon/Elena but because it is set in S1, there is some Stefan/Elena to endure
> 
> 4\. pls enjoy! send lots of love if you do like it, as I said it's straight up the longest thing I've ever done and killed me a dozen different ways, so even if all you have is criticism please let me know!

The summer of 2009 may have been the worst summer of Elena’s life. Everything Bonnie and Caroline had planned with her no longer mattered in the slightest, and as the summer vacation began, Elena realised she had no interest in anything other than staying at home. In the beginning she even struggled to get out of bed on a daily basis, instead rolling onto her side and dragging the blankets over her head. Blocking out the light was easier.

It was Aunt Jenna who eventually convinced her to get up and showered; she would appear every morning at Elena’s door with a bowl of muesli and a sneaky coffee, and for weeks would leave, bowl full. Yet slowly, she wore Elena down, until she would poke her head from under the blankets and accept the food before burrowing under again. Somehow, Jeremy hanging out with the local stoner kids was easier to deal with than this.

But progress was progress. And a week after Elena accepted breakfast, Jenna returned with a fresh white towel and a fresh bar of soap and passed them to a bedraggled looking Elena. She accepted the proffered items with the smallest smile and went to shower, washing what felt like weeks upon weeks worth of grime from her body, scrubbing each inch of it with a loofah and scalding water until she was red raw. In her bedroom she saw the scattered remains of what had been her life and in renewed determination, stripped the bed completely and tossed the sweaty sheets in the hamper before replacing them with a plain white set. Various sets of pyjamas and sweatpants had taken residence on her floor and she swept them away into the hamper too, rearranging the cushions on her window seat as she went. Elena went to open her window, wet hair leaving her exposed shoulders damp as she slid the curtains open and gazed over the street she knew so well. The gentle breeze washed over her face and Elena took a deep breath. This would be okay. 

Days passed, or so Elena thought - she couldn’t really keep track anymore - and Bonnie and Caroline came to visit. They hadn’t since the funeral; Elena asking Jenna to turn them away at the door. But they came, and smiled, and sat on Elena’s bed and told her all of the mundane gossip of those final weeks of school and how Matt had asked Caroline to let Elena know he was thinking of her. _Matt_ , thought Elena. If she hadn’t fought with Matt, would any of this have happened? Caroline saw the shutters go down over Elena’s face and felt her own flush. She shouldn’t have mentioned anything. 

“Talking of Donovans,” said Bonnie quickly, with a sly smile, “Rumour has it Jeremy’s been spotted with Vicki Donovan.”

“Vicki?” asked Elena incredulously, her mind already slipping away from Matt, and her parents, and old Wickery Bridge. Caroline nodded exaggeratedly, glad the conversation moved on.

“She’s like, so old for him,” she said, snickering slightly.

Later, after they had left and Elena had fixed herself soup in the microwave - Jenna didn’t have the culinary prowess of Elena’s mom, as it turned out - Elena retreated back to her room and took up a seat by the window. In her hands was a slim, green, leather bound journal. It had been a gift last Christmas from her parents, monogrammed with her initials. She slid it open and stared at that first, blank page. She’d read online that writing a diary helped with grief, alongside a whole string of other bullshit ideas that she was less convinced would work. But maybe this would. She’d always liked writing, after all. 

_Dear Diary,_ she began, pen tapping over the page. This was harder than expected. How was she meant to encapsulate everything that had happened, and everything she felt, with a pen and paper. Her eyes slid shut. Start at the beginning and start simple. 

_Today was a good day. I woke up at 9, had breakfast with Jeremy. Well, tried to. He didn’t talk to me and then slinked out the door. I’m worried for Jer - he won’t talk to me anymore._

And like that, Elena couldn’t stop. Her wrist began aching three pages in, and she dropped the pen to twist and turn the joint, before slowing down as she looked out the window. On the other side of the pane a crow stood silently watching, head tipping as it caught her looking. It hopped from one foot to the other, as though alarmed, or more likely, surprised, at what it saw. Elena had never considered birds particularly communicative animals - they flew, they sang, and they shat on your car during fall. Yet she smiled down at the black bird on her sill, having now stopped moving and instead standing still and gazing at her with those bright, intense eyes. Her face softened once more looking at it before she picked up her pen and finished the page. She didn’t think any more of it.

  
  


Strangely, keeping a diary was a habit Elena fell into naturally. She’d never really considered it properly before, and had always thought of it as a childish, girly pastime, but there was something soothing and rhythmical about just writing about the events of her day, what she thought, random tidbits of how things made her feel. She wasn’t an idiot, and knew that vocalising emotion helped resolve it (thanks again to those grief self-help sites she visited often), but just the process of writing helped her mind calm and relax. And so every night she’d sit on her window seat and look out over her sleepy residential street, the sun staying in the sky longer with every passing day, and write. She didn’t see the crow again, or if she did it was just another black bird, dashing out from a leafy tree into the sky - it certainly wasn’t hopping on her sill anymore, and soon she barely even remembered it had happened.

June passed her by in a blur - eating, sleeping, being frustrated with Jeremy, enduring Caroline and Bonnie’s gossip - it all just happened, and before Elena knew, it was July. Caroline had of course helped organise the Mystic Falls Independence Day fireworks event in the town square, and with quiet encouragement from Jenna, Elena attended with Bonnie in tow. Jeremy had decided to stay home.

In traditional Mystic Falls fashion, the Mayor made some oblique reference to the Founders and there was a traditional dance performed but it was over soon, and Caroline appeared at Elena’s side, eyes gushing with excitement. The first firework almost gave her a fright, but by the third she was tense with anticipation.

It was dark, but it was that first hour or so of darkness, when the sun had dipped well below the horizon but twilight hadn’t yet given way to true night. Yet the blues, reds, golds and greens shined and popped perfectly right above their heads. Elena broke into an unexpected smile, Bonnie taking one of her hands and Caroline the other as the three of them looked upwards in awe. She squeezed their hands and grinned. June had passed without her paying attention, but here she was. A tear threatened to fall but with wonder, Elena realised it wasn’t because she was sad, but because she felt good.

She slowly felt eyes on her, the skin prickling at the back of her neck with that unconscious feeling of being watched, and so she dropped her head, blinking rapidly to get the fuzzy stars of light out of her vision. Her eyes ran over the crowds of people, across the empty stage and fell on the dark bird crouched on top of one of the speakers. It was cocking its head, first in Elena’s direction and then up, as though tracking the fireworks in the sky. It looked back to Elena, but she had already slid her eyes away to the blond figure beneath. Matt. He was gazing at her, illegal beer in one hand. She smiled gently at him, lifting her hand from Bonnie’s to wave at him, and he nodded, brow furrowed, before turning and slipping away. Elena frowned at his disappearing back before raising her head to watch the final few rockets fly, only to catch on the bird once more. It was still there, eye intently fixed on Elena. She turned her own head to the side in a mirror image of it, when without warning its wings unfurled and it spun and flew away from the gathered crowd.

“They were better than I expected,” said Caroline, drawing Elena’s attention to her. The display had ended, with only the lingering scent of gunpowder hovering in the air.

“Congratulations Caroline, another successful event chaired,” said Bonnie, leaning her shoulder against Caroline’s with a wide smile.

“Yeah, well done Caroline,” said Elena, turning and grinning at her, “Best Fourth of July Mystic Falls has probably seen in a while.” 

Bonnie giggled at that while Caroline preened proudly, flicking her hair back.

“I’ve practically already won Miss Mystic Falls,” she joked and both Elena and Bonnie laughed voraciously, before turning as one to head to the Grill for their epic July 4th nacho platter. Elena didn’t look back.

Later that evening, Elena slipped through the front door long after Jenna’s rarely-enforced curfew, and in record time brushed her teeth and washed her face before diving under her blankets. Within minutes she was asleep - practically a record for her, having spent months with insufferable insomnia. She dreamed too. Half the reason Elena couldn’t sleep at night was because she was scared to dream, to dream and wake up, body rigid in terror, throat clogged with freezing water as she drowned over and over. Yet that night she slipped into sleep and dreamt without a second thought.


	2. Chapter 2

_Elena was on old Wickery Bridge, and as she opened her eyes and took in her location she felt that familiar panic set in, as though her lungs were filling with water and her hands were scrabbling at her throat, begging to breathe as she felt herself dying._

_A squawk sounded directly in her left ear as clear as a bell, lifting her from the panic as she whipped around to see a crow crouched on the flimsy barrier, squawking at her again. She stepped closer, hands sliding from her throat, her panic forgotten. Reaching an arm out she tried to touch it and make it tangible, her head slowly tilting in recognition. She knew this crow and had seen him before, but it was like trying to remember someone from your past, all fuzzy and faded. Her arm stretched towards it but it swiftly recoiled and flew from its perch, flapping its wings in front of her face yet she wasn’t intimidated, didn’t flinch, just watched._

_“I know you,” she told it, knowing it sounded crazy but to her ears it made sense. It was the truth in her heart._

_“I’ve seen you before, haven’t I? By my window…” Elena’s voice trailed as she struggled to recollect the hopping bird on the faded white wood of her windowsill to the dark creature flapping in her face._

_It squawked once more, as if to quiet her train of thought, before turning in the air and flying down the road, back towards town. Elena watched it for a split second before equally turning on her heel and pushing into a jog, following him a pace behind. Logically she knew roughly how long a jog from Wickery Bridge to Mystic Falls would take, but it seemed like within only a minute or so they were there, but the bird didn’t head into town._

_It turned sharply a few meters shy of the ‘Welcome’ sign and dove through the trees flanking the road._

_“Wait!” called Elena breathlessly, trying to follow it through the dense forest. Branches slapped her bare arms and legs, whipping at her face as she pushed through, the crunch of pine needles stabbing her feet with every pounding step. Breathlessly she came to a stop, head tilted up to the canopy of the forest where only a sliver of moonlight could reach through._

_“Where are you?” she called, voice panting as every muscle in her body screamed in agony. The jog from Wickery Bridge had been a breeze; she hadn’t felt the tarmac under her feet or the chill in the air, but now as she stood still she saw her legs - bruised thighs barely covered by her striped pyjama shorts and her feet, red raw and bleeding._

_“Where are you?” she asked again, quieter._

_She felt her voice crack. Elena had no idea where she was or what she was doing, except that she’d lost the crow. It had led her to the middle of nowhere and abandoned her and all she could feel was the chill rising on the back of her neck as her sweat evaporated. She sank to her knees, ignoring the scratching pain of the forest floor. Where was she? There was the soft crackle of broken pine approaching towards her, and she lifted her eyes only to see that blasted bird hopping closer._

_“What do you want from me?” she begged of it, feeling tears pricking at the corners of her eyes, but it only came closer before stopping directly in front of her, head cocking characteristically._

_It lowered its head, tilting it towards her with a downcast eye before clicking its beak softly. It made the noise again, a quiet clicking sound as though it was a person signalling a horse. Elena caught her breath, lip between her teeth as she calmed down. She reached her arm out again, slowly, making sure it could see what she was doing as not to frighten it away. Her breath held in her chest as her fingertips made contact, feeling the smooth feathers over the top of its skull, thumb sliding over its warm neck. It clicked again, and Elena could sense the meaning permeating her mind, as though it had whispered in her ear._

Forgive me. 

_The corner of her mouth split into a tiny smile and she nodded once, understanding. The crow endured a final second of her petting before hopping out of her grasp, and giving her palm a playful snap of its beak._

Elena awoke immediately, the sound of her alarm pulling her from the depths of the forest as the sun streamed through her sheer curtains. Her arm shot out and hit the top of the alarm clock haphazardly, yet successfully ending its incessant ringing. She pulled herself so she was sitting, head hanging down as she tried to roll her neck and shoulders.

A dream. Thank God she’d been dreaming. It had all been so visceral, the chilled sweat rolling down her spine, her feet burning and bleeding, legs red with a thousand marks from whipping trees. She brought her hands to her face, silent laugh breaking free as she relieved the dream in her mind and revelled in its absurdity. Yet as she drew her hand to scrub over her eyes she felt a nip of pain and opened her palm in her lap. In the centre was a wound, barely there yet visible, and painful. Incredulously she thumbed it with her opposite hand and winced. It was as if she’d been pecked by a bird.

Elena scrambled off the bed and slid into the shower, turning the heat up high. The steam rose quickly in front of her face, as she tilted her head back under the hot spray, running her hands through her hair. If she didn’t see it, if she cleaned the traces of sweat from her body and rinsed it all from her hair, maybe she could make sense of it. Because this was insane, clearly. You don’t dream of things and then wake up to still find them there in reality. So why was her hand stinging under the lathered shampoo? Unless she did it herself in her sleep, scratched her hand with her fingernails and dreamt it was a bird. Elena washed the shampoo out and smoothed conditioner through the ends of her hair. Yes. That was logical, wasn’t it? 

A heavy knock made her jump slightly and she turned the showerhead to the wall to listen.

“Elena, c’mon,” she heard Jeremy say over the rush of water, followed by another solid knock. She hadn’t realised she’d been there so long, letting the water rush down her back and over her face. She quickly finished washing her hair and stepped out, wrapping a towel around her hair and another tucked safely over her body before heading back to her room, hearing Jeremy enter the bathroom a minute later. 

Her hands were damp and wrinkly as she sat at the vanity, rubbing moisturiser into her skin. For a long moment, Elena gazed at the reflection back at her. She did look healthy, the dark circles retreating and her cheeks feeling warm and tight from the shower. Her hair was longer too; naturally it had grown since she’d last checked but it was longer than she expected, and she knew when she dried it she’d have sunkissed strands blonder than the rest.

Elena smiled at the mirror, and the reflection smiled back, copying her as she ran a thumb over her lip. In the back of her mind she heard the shower turn off, and Jeremy’s door to the bathroom close as he went into his room, breaking her reverie. She stepped into action and dried her hair as quickly as possible before getting changed, and headed downstairs.

Jenna was taking her back-to-school shopping. Shopping was something Elena could sometimes enjoy, if she was in the right mindset, and that day she was so desperate for distraction she’d do just about anything. At breakfast, Jenna had asked about the mark on her palm, and in a fluster Elena told her she’d caught it on a loose nail on the porch. And Jenna had made a face but didn’t question it any further, so Elena hurriedly agreed to the shopping.

Besides, a new wardrobe mightn’t be such a bad idea. Each morning was a nuisance for her, standing in front of her dresser trying to find an outfit. She didn’t much feel like the cute summer dresses she’d worn in years previous, or the shorts and tank tops that were a little too like a Disney Channel character for her liking. She’d seen her old cheerleading set at the bottom of her wardrobe and felt a shiver up her spine. That wasn’t her anymore. Not that she knew what that meant anymore, either. 

It was late by the time she and Jenna got home, having treated themselves to dinner at the Grill for the second time in as many days and bringing home a takeaway box for Jeremy. It didn’t sound like he’d had anything planned for the day. Up in her room, Elena sorted through her new purchases; putting all the new stationary and notebooks in a neat pile on her desk and replacing old toiletries with new, before opening up her drawers.

Meticulously she went through, and by the end she had a pretty decent pile to send to Goodwill, immediately replaced with the new things Jenna had bought today. She wasn’t wholly convinced by her choices either, and knew Caroline would definitely have something to say about it, but it’s what she needed. Something new and fresh and _different_. There was old Elena in that Goodwill pile, and a new Elena hanging in the closet. Settling into her familiar seat, she opened her diary and got to writing.

It had been a positive day for her, and she took her time brushing her teeth and washing her face as she got ready for bed, yet as she climbed under the covers in a fresh set of pyjamas, she felt her hackles rise. What if she dreamt again? What if she woke up with a wound again? Elena physically shook her head, as though wiping the thoughts straight from her mind. Dreams didn’t work like that, and they couldn’t hurt her, she forced herself to believe. She slid down the bed, pulling the quilt up to her chin. It had been a fluke. She’d managed to hurt herself in her sleep, that was all. She’d be okay. 

Yet as soon as her eyes slid shut, Elena was dreaming again.

_It was the outskirts of Mystic Falls, a few miles out of town. She knew that after the curve up the road there were houses set back from the road; large, colonial types with rolling gardens and tree swings by the creek. There had been a party in one of them a few months ago, a senior throwing a kegger when his parents were out of town._

_Elena felt that familiar panic claw her throat for a second, before she noticed the only other thing interrupting the landscape. The damned crow sat on a low hanging branch by the side of the road, watching her intently._

_“Oh. You again.” said Elena, deadpan, and the bird cocked its head in offense. Elena turned slowly, looking up the road towards the houses, and down towards town._

_“Last time I saw you I ended up crying on my knees,” she told it, making a decision and turning to follow the road to Mystic Falls._

_She paused as the crow cawed above her; the sound sharp but not loud enough to hurt her ears. With a quirked eyebrow, she looked at it expectantly. It made a noise again, cawing softer as it stepped closer to the end of the branch._ _Just as she had last time, Elena could feel the meaning seeping into her mind. If she listened closely enough she could make sense of the crow._

I’m sorry _, it said._ Trust me. Follow me. 

_Elena watched it closely as it spread its wings and flew from the tree, flapping slowly before turning to the tree line._

_“Into the trees again?” asked Elena, scoffing at the thought. She didn’t like the thought of having her feet bleeding all over again. It squawked at her, high and clear, indignant._

Trust me. 

_And then it was gone, flying low through the trees lining the road. Elena figured she didn’t have much of a choice, and followed it inside. It was slower this time, pausing briefly on a low branch to check Elena was following, and this time Elena didn't have to sprint but managed to keep up at a fast walk, a pace or so behind it. She’d never claimed to be brilliant at geography but she had a vague enough sense of direction to know that they were heading towards Mystic Falls, rather than away from it. The trees slowly began to thin, and Elena’s senses became overwhelmed by the sound of rushing water edging closer._

_“Where are we?” she asked anxiously, the moonlight shining on her face through the fading canopy up above._

_Unsurprisingly, she received no reply. Pushing through the final layer of trees, Elena found herself on the banks of the river, the water racing below. There was a deep ravine with craggy outcrops of rock, causing the water to become choppy and white as it rushed past. Hard to believe that a few miles upriver it was wide and slow moving enough to paddle in. The crow sat atop a white painted cast iron pole, waiting patiently. Stretching out over the ravine was a Victorian suspension footbridge, the white paint immaculate. Elena had only ever seen bits and pieces of this bridge; the ruined gate at the other end, and rusted strips of wire sticking out from the water._

_“This was destroyed years ago,” she said in disbelief, frowning up at the crow._

_It was condemned, having collapsed in the early 20th century. From elementary school onwards the local kids were told not to play there. She could almost hear the crow scoff in her mind._

This is a dream _, it told her._

_Elena smiled broadly, and took the first step onto the wooden planks of the bridge. It swayed briefly and her stomach dropped for only a second, before she took another step. With a warm breeze, she felt rather than saw the crow fly close overhead, a breath away from the top of her skull. It landed carefully on the identical cast iron post on the other side, waiting for Elena to come to it. She felt her fear seep out of her as she kept walking, passing the halfway mark with another gentle wobble of the bridge. Another second and she’d made it, and was stood next to the crow with her heart in her throat. She should’ve died, crossing the river, should have fallen straight down the ravine._

It’s only a dream, _she felt the crow say, clicking its beak at her in reassurance._

_She nodded up at it, and reached up her hand, as she had the night before. Today though, it ignored her hand with a turn of its head away from her, before lifting off again. Elena laughed at the cheekiness of its snub as she followed behind._

_They re-entered the trees on the other side, but in that way of dreams, it felt like she’d only been walking for a minute before the crow came to a stop again, the trees thinning once more as a clearing came into view. Not just a clearing, a cemetery. The crow sat on top of a headstone, looking entirely at home there. Elena felt a laugh bubble at the sight - it really could be the beginning of any horror film, ever. The headstone claimed to hold one ‘Honoria Fell’, and as her eyes skimmed over those beside her, some green with lichen, and others fallen to one side and crumbling, she saw familiar names. More Fells, a Forbes, Lockwoods, even a G-I-L, which she could only assume said ‘Gilbert’ beneath the ivy._

_“The original Mystic Falls cemetery,” she said with certainty, running a hand over Honoria’s headstone, and feeling the cold, smooth granite beneath her fingers._

_She’d never been here before, her parents having been buried at the planned graveyard and crematorium on the other side of town, where the ‘official’ Gilbert family plot was. This was from the Civil War days. The crow bent its head and nudged her fingertips with its beak, catching her attention. She looked up at it, an imperceptible frown forming._

_“Why are we here?” she asked quietly, her voice growing softer._

_There was something about cemeteries that always made Elena whisper, as though the dead could listen._

Look, _it said, nudging her hand again and lifting its beak._

_She followed the direction it pointed and saw a tall mausoleum jutting at the other side of the graveyard. It was bigger than the other plots, practically a whole building, whereas the others were just headstones in the ground._

_“Someone was rich in this town,” she murmured to herself, taking steps towards it._

_As she edged closer, Elena could feel a slow pressure beginning to build in her skull, and she turned to look at the crow in question, but it couldn’t respond. The pressure kept on building, and she could hear the blood pounding in her ears like a high-pitched scream as the crow squawked horribly, painfully, hopping to and fro on Honoria’s gravestone. Elena’s hands instinctively came up to cover her ears from the screaming as the pressure gave way to unbearable pain inside her head._

_“Make it stop!” she heard herself shout, knees giving way as she fell to the forest floor._

And then it was over, her body moving to sit upright in bed as her hands fell from her ears.

“Elena?” called Jenna, cracking the door open and peering in sleepily, hair askew. Elena could feel her heart pumping rapidly beneath her ribs, breath catching.

“You were screaming,” she continued, taking a seat at the edge of the bed and watching Elena closely, “I thought the nightmares had stopped.”

“I’m okay,” whispered Elena hoarsely, “It’s okay. They have. It wasn’t- my parents weren’t- I’m okay. Just a normal bad dream,” she finally managed, attempting at a smile. Jenna gave her hand a quick squeeze and paused a moment longer.

“Okay then. If you’re sure,” she said, running her thumb over Elena’s cheekbone and pausing a final moment before getting back up, and slipping back towards her own room with a click of the door. Alone again, Elena pressed a hand to her chest, heart and lungs only just starting to regulate again. She slid down under the duvet, breath coming out in manageable lungfuls. What was her life anymore and what the hell was happening to her?


	3. Chapter 3

She didn’t dream again that night, or the night after, or the night after that. Elena half convinced herself that the whole thing had been some short fit of grief-induced madness, where her brain had convinced her that her dreams could be real. She’d spent a good week staring at every black bird that had crossed her path, much to the concerned glances of Bonnie and Caroline. None of the birds looked back at her. That's when she figured she might just be going crazy.

July became August, and Elena had both herself and her diary convinced that it had been one big delusion. The dreams that felt so real, the bird that had hopped on her windowsill that first day - she convinced herself she’d made it all up.

It was the week before school began, and anxiety settled low in Elena’s stomach. It had barely been a few months, but somehow becoming a junior felt like jumping over a cavernous hole in the ground in comparison to becoming a sophmore the year before. There was another round of shopping done, under the careful tutelage of Caroline, who had scanned through Elena’s wardrobe with a particular raised eyebrow. She’d pulled out a red denim miniskirt, scandalized. 

“When do you plan on wearing this?” she’d asked and Elena had shrugged.

“It looked cool when I tried it on Car, and I don’t know. Maybe this year will be our year,” she said finally, half joking and half serious.

“Oh no, it will definitely be ‘our year’,” agreed Caroline, giving the skirt one more disdainful look, “just not in this skirt.” 

Elena had laughed then and rolled onto her stomach.

“Okay. One shopping trip Car. One.”

The night before the first day of school, Elena’s tummy was rolling and the nerves came back full force. Somehow it wasn’t even the classwork, or the sympathetic looks, or the Caroline-approved outfit laid out that gave her pause. 

Rather, it would be the first time she saw Matt in months. Last time she’d seen him he’d been waiting tables on the other side of the Grill and had purposefully not looked in her direction. Last time they’d spoken had been a month or so after the accident, when in no uncertain terms, Elena had told him she couldn’t do it anymore. And it had been the truth, of course. She didn’t have the capacity in her mind to deal with it all, but now she deeply regretted her word choice - she could’ve been nicer about it. 

Elena turned onto her other side, the cool sheets pressing to her cheek. It’d be okay. She’d have Caroline and Bonnie there, and being forced to go to school meant she could keep a closer eye on Jer too. And she’d go to her history and math classes, and she’d write in her bright new jotters, and it would be okay. She slid her eyes closed, heartbeat slowing as she repeated the mantra. It’d be okay.

_ Except when her eyes opened she was in that bloody cemetery again, recognising it after only a second despite the long weeks since she’d last seen it. Without a modicum of surprise she saw her crow sat where she had left him, like no time had passed, on the grave of Honoria Fell. _

_ “You have some goddamn explaining to do,” she told it indignantly, arms crossed over her chest and eyebrow cocked.  _

_ “Last time you brought me here, I wake up screaming half the house down. And then nothing?”  _

_ In her frustration Elena began to pace, walking up and down in front of Honoria’s grave as she began ranting. _

_ “You had me half convinced I was crazy, that this was all my own imagination, and even now! I’m not sure whether I was right and this really is just my madness. Are you a figment of my imagination? I’m not even convinced I really saw you in real life that first time, or if I made that up too. Do you know what it's like to convince yourself that you imagined a whole-ass talking bird? Even if it was all in my dreams? No, of course you don’t. You’re a bird.” _

_ Elena finally stopped talking with a tired huff of breath, arms folding over her chest once more as she rounded on the crow, who had sat perfectly still and listened intently. It looked up at her inquisitively, opening and then closing its beak without a sound. Elena let out a throaty noise that could’ve been a chuckle; the crow almost looked speechless, opening and closing its beak as though lost for words. Finally it cawed once, loud and clear. _

I’m sorry.

_ It bent its head and pecked at the stone between its feet, paused, and repeated the motion, until Elena relented with a quiet sigh, and reached out to thumb the feathers over his skull. It was soft and warm, leaning into her touch. He cawed a few times, quieter this time.  _

The noise. Last time, that noise scared me _. _

_ Elena kept up her petting, feeling the words slide through her mind and encouraged them. It seemed impossible that this omnipresent bird of hers could be scared by her nightmares. _

It wasn’t you. 

_ The voice in her mind, clear as a bell. _

Someone didn’t like me being here. Me bringing you here.

_ It was the longest phrase the crow had ever spoken to her, and it didn’t caw again, instead letting itself lean into her soft stroking, her fingers running through the feathers of his wings.  _

_ Elena’s mind was moving a million miles per hour, absorbing the information as quickly as possible. _

_ “I.. wait, I… why? Why would someone care what I dreamt about? And Christ, how would they even know?” she asked, hand stilling on the neck of the crow as she felt a shock of fear in her spine, turning to look over her shoulder. There was nothing there, but her hackles had risen. The tumbling gravestones and that mausoleum, hidden by the trees, did nothing to reassure. _

_ “I’m dreaming. No one can know what I dream about, right? No one can like, see my dreams. No one can know that you’re here. That I dream about you, can they?” she asked of it, voice raising in pitch as her stomach dropped. The crow made a loud, sharp noise then, opening his wingspan for effect as the noise cut through Elena’s spiralling mind. _

No. That’s not how dreams work Elena, you’re right. It’s okay.

_ “It’ll be okay,” agreed Elena softly, trusting his words as she looked down at the crow softly, reaching out again to run her whole hand over his back and wings, earning a pleased hop in response. _

Good luck at school tomorrow. 

_ It cawed into the palm of her hand, reassuring her with a gentle nip, careful enough Elena knew it wouldn’t scar. _

_ “Will I see you?” asked Elena, in a moment of madness. Had she really asked her dream-slash-nightmare creature if she would see him at school? In her real waking life? She could almost laugh at the absurdity. The crow broke through her mental chatter with a single click of his beak. _

I’ll be there.

Bonnie gave her a lift to school that morning, as Jenna took the car to run up to college and meet her supervisor. Bonnie had been spending so much time with her Grams over the summer, much to her dad’s chagrin, and she’d been telling Elena and Caroline all sorts of stuff.

“Psychic?” asked Elena incredulously, lifting her eyebrow at Bonnie.

“I know it sounds mad Elena, but my Grams was certain,” said Bonnie, feeling a ridiculous smile on her face. It did sound stupid, after all.

“Apparently we’re descended from witches in Salem, and that's why we’re psychic,” she explained.

“Okay then, what am I thinking?” asked Elena, grinning back. 

Bonnie rolled her eyes at her, before taking on a serious expression and shooting quick looks at Elena whilst keeping an eye on the road. Elena felt Bonnie’s intense gaze on her face, trying to clear her mind. She didn’t believe it because it was a ridiculous notion, but if she could believe in a real, talking, recurring crow, then she could believe Bonnie.

“You’re anxious about Matt,” said Bonnie finally, and Elena swallowed hard. It wasn’t what Elena had been thinking about, but she wasn’t wrong.

“Huh,” she said, turning to look out the window of the car, “Maybe it is true then.”

And then Elena was jerked to the side; her head barely missed banging off the glass as Bonnie slammed on the brakes, pulling them up to the side of the road. A black shape dashed through her periphery vision as she turned to look at Bonnie, breath coming in pants. She could tell her face was stricken.

“God, Elena, I’m so sorry, are you okay?” asked Bonnie urgently, reaching over the console to rest a hand on Elena’s arm. Elena gave a slow nod, taking quick check of her body. She was breathing, her throat was clear, the panic was fading.

“I’m okay,” she said, attempting a smile, “Are you? What happened?”

“I don’t know. Something flew directly in front of the car, a bird or something,” said Bonnie, turning to look back out the windscreen.

“A bird with a death wish,” joked Elena, her smile widening. 

Bonnie scoffed and nodded before checking her mirrors and pulling back into the road. Elena checked the passenger wing mirror on her side, as though the bird would just be sat there patiently.

_ I’ll be there.  _

That’s what he’d said last night; surely getting hit by her car wasn’t what he meant? Except then they were pulling into the parking lot and they spotted Caroline waiting by the picnic benches, hair perfectly curled for the first day, and she gave them a quick wave. 

“Junior year then,” said Bonnie quietly, as though to herself, before slipping out the car with Elena in tow.

Before first period had even begun, Elena met the most beautiful boy she’d ever seen. She’d also caught Jeremy dealing pot, but if she thought about that too hard she’d begin to spiral, and she didn’t want to spiral on the first day. Instead she felt the intense looks the boy was giving her in class, spreading a flush up her back and over her cheeks. He wasn’t even being subtle, if Bonnie’s text was anything to go by. He’d said his name was Stefan in history class. Stefan.

She’d been offered a lift home from Bonnie too, after last period, but Elena shook her head. She figured a walk would do her good and Mystic Falls was hardly a big town. Jeremy had been spotted in the stoner pit and Elena had felt that white hot coil of anger and panic again. She had no idea how to even begin to fix that, pushing it to the back of her mind. Out of sight, out of mind. 

She walked quickly through town, mind running through her day as the scenery fell away around her. Then, quite without noticing, Elena realised that she was heading west, rather than north out of Mystic Falls. Another block and she’d be at the cemetery. The 21st century version, that is. She paused briefly, gazing up and then down the street before making up her mind. She would be able to pinpoint the location of the Gilbert plot blindfolded, making a beeline straight for it as soon as she passed the gate. Really, she should have brought flowers, but as she defended herself in her mind, this hadn’t exactly been planned. 

She did remove the dead flowers from her last visit, most of the flowers wilted entirely and dead petals scattered over the raised grass. Elena cleared the plot before bending to her knees, running her hand over the engraved letters of first her mom’s name, then her dad’s.

“Hi,” she said quietly, feeling the cold stone and the clear cut angles of the words. 

Elena paused another moment before standing up and stepping a few paces back to the graves in the row in front, before settling back down in the grass cross-legged. A hand went up to wipe at her face, the single tear swiftly swept away. She wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to come here without tearing up, but she inhaled deeply and pulled her green notebook from her bag

Elena had only made it to writing about third period when she heard a familiar squawk above her head. Immediately she looked up and smiled broadly. The crow was sat regally atop her parent’s grave, looking as at home there as he had on Honoria’s. Elena scrambled to stand and went over to it, hand instinctively reaching out to pet him. He endured it for less than a second before slipping from under her grasp and cawing again. Elena frowned; she couldn’t hear him. He opened his wings, before cawing a final time, indignantly. Elena’s memory flashed, and her frown ran deeper.

“Was that you this morning? In Bonnie’s car? We almost hit something,” she asked quickly, but no reply was forthcoming, except for another loud squawk and another stretch of his wingspan. 

“Why would you fly low enough to get hit by a car?” she asked, this time her voice turning incredulous. 

Surely he hadn’t actually been flying in front of Bonnie’s car? 

The crow hopped further out of her reach in equal indignation, and Elena couldn’t hear the words but the meaning was easy enough to read. 

_ He hadn’t intended to.  _

Elena’s mind ran through that information. If he hadn’t been flying so low, why had Bonnie been so close to killing him? Was it to do with Bonnie’s newfound psychic powers? Her eyes scrunched shut then, her conscious brain trying to make sense of that idea. As well as the fact that she was stood in front of her parent’s grave conversing with a damn crow. A crow that she’d dreamt up. Somehow, Bonnie being psychic and her power hurting him was far more likely. She felt a nudge along her palm, opening her eyes to see him pressing his beak to her hand. He nipped it once, softly.

“I wish I could hear you. Like I can when I’m asleep,” whispered Elena, earning a click in sympathetic response.

“I wish I knew what I was doing,” she continued, and she could’ve sworn that the crow was laughing at that. 

She smiled too then, letting his warm weight rest against her. They remained for just a moment longer in the warm silent breeze of the empty cemetery, until suddenly the crow jerked away from her. He flapped his wings desperately as he rose into the air, cawing loudly, frantically at Elena. She took a step back in surprise, frowning at him. 

“What’s happening?” she asked, voice laced with concern. He cawed again, higher pitched this time and Elena felt a broken, strained strand of thought.

_ I have to go. _

That was it, as much as he could manage before he turned and flew up and away. She watched him go, eyes squinting at the sky as her heart thrummed desperately in her chest. She spun around, looking through the haze in her vision to see what could have scared him so. There was nothing, no one. Elena was alone. Her spine ran cold. She picked up her bag and began moving towards the north exit, slinging it over her shoulder as she went. She stepped swiftly around headstones, glancing over her shoulder as she picked up into a jog. 

Elena wasn’t even certain she was being followed, only that the muscles in her back were tightening in anxious fear, and that her crow had left her. Abandoned her. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears as she looked back once again, only to trip over and slice her hand on a jagged branch. She scrambled up again and began moving again, only to practically slam full-force into an unmoving body. It was Stefan, from history class. 


	4. Chapter 4

Later that night, Elena’s heart beat rapidly beneath her cotton pyjama top as she ran through the day’s events. It’d been nice to speak to Stefan, even if he did seem a bit awkward. Intelligent, cute, but almost shy. And he’d ran from her too; she understood being squeamish with blood like her mom had been, but literally running away had seemed melodramatic. 

At least he’d come to apologise, her diary tucked under his arm. Elena had blanched at that, scared to ask if he had secretly read it, but she didn’t need to - he reassured her he hadn’t, and she believed him. And then she asked him if he wanted to join her at the Grill. She had no idea who she thought she was, with all this new found confidence of hers, asking boys out like that. He just seemed so thoughtful, and sweet. 

She automatically wanted to get to know him more, to learn everything she possibly could about him. And then Caroline had asked him to the party that next day, and if it hadn’t been her best friend, she would’ve rolled her eyes. Caroline lacked subtlety in the boy department, but Stefan had been friendly enough, making eyes at Elena before agreeing. Her heart had sped up at that; the idea that he would want her approval first. That he wanted her to be okay with it. 

It had been nice, talking to a boy again, feeling the flush in her cheeks when he said something smart, or endearing. Bonnie had given her a very distinct, direct look when they all parted ways, but Elena chose to ignore it. She’d been smiling all night. That had to mean something.

And so here she was, tucked up on her windowsill in loose pyjamas, green diary gripped tight. As though she’d be able to feel Stefan’s hands on it, where he’d touched it and held it. She did roll her eyes then. This wasn’t some ridiculous romance movie, and there certainly wasn’t some be-all, end-all soulmate connection. Elena was a realist. 

She slid it open and continued writing, struggling to pick up where she’d left off - it felt like so much had happened. Subconsciously she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth as she wrote quickly, only to be disturbed by a soft tapping at her window. Elena looked up, heart hammering briefly before smiling. She leant forward and flicked open the latch, allowing the crow to hop into her room. It didn’t move far, remaining close to her socked feet as it quirked its head up at her. 

“You ran away earlier,” she said disapprovingly, face twisted in mock upset. 

He tilted his head down and to the side, in a move Elena had come to recognise as an apology. She nodded in understanding and it hopped a step closer, resting his head against her calf. She smiled down at him softly before speaking.

“You’re lucky I like you,” she said, and he chirped in amusement. 

She gazed at it for a second longer before resuming her writing, allowing it to circle around on her window seat before settling down, sinking into the cushion by her leg and wrapping his feathers over his back. 

It wasn’t long before Elena’s wrist started to ache, and she felt her handwriting deteriorate with every word, but she kept writing. She needed a record of today; of the car ride, class, the cemetery, meeting Stefan and then him joining them at the Grill. Finally she finished, barely writing a word or two about Jeremy at the end. She exhaled heavily, stretching her wrist joint from side to side to relieve the pressure. Her crow lifted its head, as though she’d disturbed him from a deep sleep, and ruffled his feathers before standing up and cawing quietly. 

“It’s been a long day,” she explained, letting him rub his neck along her calf as she reached down and petted his body gently. 

“I’m glad I got to see you, in the cemetery. I was a little afraid Bonnie had really hurt you,” she continued, and it let out that laugh-like noise again. 

She continued her soft movements before feeling a yawn work its way through her throat, and she retracted her hand to catch it. 

“Okay, I think it’s officially bedtime,” she told him, standing up and shuffling to hide her diary as her eyes caught her alarm clock. 

_ Definitely  _ time for bed if she wanted to be up in time for school the next day. She returned to the window, where the crow was waiting eagerly for her to unlatch it again and let him hop back outside. 

“See you later,” she said with a bright smile before closing the window and turning off her lamp, sliding into her bed with the deep set exhaustion of a busy day.

_ When Elena opened her eyes, she was back on old Wickery Bridge. Except this time, there wasn’t the deep set panic, nor was there water in her mouth, her throat, her lungs. She pressed a hand to her throat momentarily, surprised, before turning around with a bright smile. As expected there her crow sat, chest puffed proudly atop the wooden barrier. Elena’s smile grew wider as she stroked a hand over his neck briefly. _

_ “Fancy seeing you here,” she joked, earning a squawk in reply that came across much like a roll of his eyes.  _

_ She wondered briefly if crows even  _ could _ roll their eyes, before getting distracted by the words pouring through her mind. _

_ “Didn’t mean to scare you earlier,” he said with clarity, the words tangible in Elena’s mind.  _

_ Before it had been more an idea, a sense of what the crow was feeling. This felt more like a voice, full words rather than mere concepts. Elena gave a quick shake of her head. _

_ “It’s okay. I should know better than hanging about in cemeteries,” she said with a smile, “But what happened to you? What scared you?” _

_ Elena felt her pulse quicken; she wasn’t sure she really wanted that answer. _

_ “An old friend,” he responded with a scoffing caw. _

_ “A friend?” asked Elena with a laugh, “What friend can scare you off like that?” _

_ “No one can know I’m in town. That’s why I left,” he said, squawking loudly, and Elena felt a shiver run through her entire body, hair rising as her mouth ran dry.  _

_ She felt the oddest sense of deja vu that set her nerves alight, as though the memory was just a second out of reach. She swallowed heavily, frowning at the crow, who looked back in tilted consternation. _

_ “A friend who can’t know you’re here? Does that make you a secret?” she whispered, stroking her hand over his body again in an unconscious need to feel him, and make him real. _

_ “Yes.” he said, as though it was the most simple answer in the world.  _

_ Elena nodded again, continuing her motions along the silky warmth of his feathers. _

_ “Why?” she asked, voice even quieter despite the emptiness of the night air.  _

_ The crow clicked repeatedly, the noise low and soft. _

_ “I can’t tell you,” he said, “But I will.” _

_ Elena ran her tongue over her lips, watching him intently. Her rational, sensible mind told her this was madness. She still wasn’t entirely convinced that this wasn’t some dream-induced psychosis she’d brought to reality. Yet on the other hand, she could feel the heat of his black body, the intelligent, engaging eyes watching her every move. She trusted him, her body knew she could trust him. Finally she nodded, and let out a tight smile. _

_ “Okay,” she agreed, thumb running over his smooth beak, and he gave the pad of her thumb the gentlest of nips.  _

_ “Walk with me?” she asked, and in response the crow opened his wings and took off, hovering briefly as Elena began the walk back to town. It wasn’t like the mad jog of that first dream, all those months ago, but rather a steady, albeit fast-paced walk. The night air was warm against her skin and the sky clear and full of stars. Inevitably, the crow flew a pace ahead but it was as slow as he could safely manage.  _

_ Just like that first night, Elena came to a stop beside the Mystic Falls ‘Welcome’ sign on the outskirts of town. Gracefully, he landed on top of it, and Elena laughed aloud. He cocked his head in question, and Elena laughed harder. _

_ “It could be the front cover of some teen supernatural romance novel,” she joked, taking in his stance above a town sign literally called, ‘Mystic Falls’.  _

_ He seemed to take offence at that, opening and shaking his wings in indignation. Elena laughed once more, before letting the silence take over, enjoying the absolute stillness of night. _

_ It wasn’t reality, she knew that much, it being too still and empty, devoid of life bar themselves. She exhaled heavily, head tipped up as she felt her muscles relax and loosen. The moon was round and heavy in the sky, not quite full but it would only be a day or two. She rolled her head forward again and felt the gaze of the crow intently on her face. He was watching her closely, head tilted characteristically to the side as though he was absorbing every facet of her face. Elena felt a blush creep through her cheeks at the unyielding gaze, but he only cawed happily back, keeping his human words to himself.  _

_ “Thank you,” she eventually told him.  _

_ She wasn’t entirely sure exactly what it was she was thanking him for, but she felt the need to tell him. It might have been one of the strangest days of her life yet in that moment, all Elena could feel was calmness and warmth spreading through her body. Maybe that’s why she thanked him; she wasn’t sure when she’d last felt so safe. Protected. The crow remained silent a moment longer, allowing Elena to feel whatever it was she was feeling. Finally he gave a low caw, drawing her attention back to him, and with an indolent quirk of her lips, Elena automatically reached out to touch him again. _

_ “I won’t see you after tonight,” he said, and Elena’s hand stilled.  _

_ All that she’d been feeling evaporated like a cold sweat along her spine.  _

_ “I have to go, leave town.” _

_ “Your ‘friend’?” she asked quietly and the crow clicked in acknowledgement. _

_ “I’ll miss you,” said Elena truthfully, and he tilted his full body into her hand, rubbing back and forth against her palm.  _

_ She brought her other hand up too, pressing his body between them and running both her thumbs over his head.  _

_ “It’s okay,” she said finally, “I’ll be okay,” and he clicked one last time.  _

_ Elena ran her fingers over his silky top feathers, pressing through them to the downy feathers along his body, feeling his internal heat running through her. She closed her eyes, registering nothing but the feel of him. _

Her eyes opened again slowly, breath deep and heavy. Elena struggled to sit up on her elbows, exhaling carefully. She felt a dull pain in her chest but it soon disappeared, and she flopped back down onto the mattress, staring up at the ceiling. 

“Huh,” she whispered to the silent air of her bedroom. 

Elena knew then that he had been real, that this wasn’t some grief delusion she’d invented. She had felt the pain of his bite and the warmth of his body; that had been real. She also knew, deep down, that she wouldn’t be seeing him again, and she felt her heart clench at that. Finally she rolled onto her side and pulled the pillow closer to her face, eyes scrunching shut. There were still a few hours of sleep to be had.

  
  



	5. Chapter 5

And true to his word, Elena didn’t see him again. She went to the party in the woods the next day with Stefan. She endured Caroline’s jealous comments, and listened to Bonnie’s vague concerns. She double checked every bird in the vicinity of the party, but none of them were quite right, so eventually she gave up. Then Vicki Donovan was attacked, and Jeremy was distraught, and Stefan was somehow even more distraught than that. So Elena went home alone, a silent Jeremy by her side, while Stefan disappeared. When writing in her diary later that night, Elena figured that the only benefit of the night was that Stefan was a good kisser.

Things only got stranger as life moved on. Bonnie had magic. Elena had barely controlled herself from crying in amazement that Saturday morning in bed, when the feathers from her pillows had danced before her eyes. It had been beautiful. She’d sat there, hand over her mouth in complete awe, and thought of her own secrets. They seemed to be piling up day-on-day. She contemplated telling Bonnie everything about the summer; out of everyone she’d surely be the best help in figuring out what it meant - besides, imagining a crow for months on end was distinctly less crazy than having real magic.

Yet Elena didn’t tell Bonnie. She kept that secret close to her chest. It was something for herself; a brief moment in her life that wasn’t to be shared or exposed, or passed around like idle gossip. She wasn’t sure what possessed her to not tell anyone, not even Stefan, but she didn’t. It felt right like that. A summer dream, that only she could remember. And Stefan himself had secrets galore. Elena always felt that as soon as she learnt one, another was right around the corner.

So after everything, her summer of dreams, her fall full of Bonnie’s magic - Stefan being a vampire almost made sense. And it didn’t scare her half as much as she’d thought it would. He could scare her, when his eyes darkened and his teeth were replaced by sharp fangs; Elena couldn’t deny the panicked beat of her heart, yet she still trusted him. With her life no less. She knew deep down that she would always be able to trust him, regardless of his _appetites_. Besides, he promised that he only ever killed animals, so surely he was no worse than the majority of the American population eating meat everyday, right?

This was Elena’s life now; the vampire boyfriend from the Civil War and her witch of a best friend, descended from Salem witches themselves. And life carried on as normal, going to school, going on dates, eating Sunday brunch at the Grill with the girls, checking on Jeremy.

He’d sobered up after Vicki’s attack. According to the Mystic Falls rumour mill, she’d been high out of her mind that night she’d claimed to be attacked by a vampire. At first, Elena had looked at Stefan with complete suspicion, and refused to talk to him, but he’d vehemently denied it. He’d gone on to suggest it was another vampire passing through town. Taking an easy victim. He had seemed edgy that night, but Elena believed him. It wasn’t like anyone had been attacked since then. And she did love him, after all. 

She kept her diary going. Elena didn’t really think she needed it anymore - her life was busy now, always coming and going and she felt better, and she felt she was healing, finally. And it felt like Jeremy was healing too, in his own way. He still became reclusive and depressed, but for days in a row it was like her old brother was back. Yet still she wrote. Perhaps it was the ritual that kept her going.

Every night, bar dire exceptions, Elena would curl up on her window seat, green notebook in hand. She’d write till her hand ached, and she’d stare out at the night, her subconscious half hoping she’d see a flash of black wing, or the timid pecking of a beak on glass. It was folly and she knew as much - he’d kept his promise and she hadn’t seen him. It had all just been a summer dream, and that’s how it would stay.

Retrospectively, it wasn’t exactly Elena’s brightest idea. It had made sense that morning, when she’d seen Jeremy’s face. They were running late for school, Elena twirling the car keys in her hand as Jeremy dug through the hall closet over and over. Jenna was up at college and had left Elena with the keys to the truck, letting her take Jer to and from school and to the shops. It was only for a few days, but Jenna really needed to take the time in the Whitmore library. And so Elena was waiting to take Jeremy to school but he kept pulling jackets out of the closet and throwing boots about.

“Jer,” said Elena finally, exasperated, “what are you looking for?”

“My raincoat, y’know, the green one,” he said, pulling up a greenish item before tossing it back.

“Oh, your winter one?” said Elena, peering over his shoulder to the chaos of the closet.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s getting cold now,” he explained, and Elena nodded in agreement behind him. Without anyone noticing, fall had become winter and the temperature had dropped and the weather had turned grey and dreadful. Elena continued watching him impatiently before having an epiphany, followed by a gasp.

“Oh, Jer,” she whispered, and he turned to look at her in confusion, “I think it’s at the lake house,” she said, and Jeremy dropped his gaze. 

Last Christmas had been spent at the lake house; Elena and her dad heading out to chop firewood, her parents arguing over the best eggnog recipe, as they did every year. The plan had been to go there over summer vacation, and bring all their winter gear back home with them. Except they hadn’t gone over summer vacation. Jenna had, once, to check everything was in order, but neither Elena or Jeremy had wanted to. Too many memories.

“Hey, I’ll drive out after school and get our stuff. It’s okay Jer,” said Elena softly, and after a steady exhale, Jeremy turned and looked up to her with a smile.

“Okay then. Thanks,” he said, and Elena nodded before jangling the keys emphatically, and Jeremy slammed the closet door closed.

So this was why Elena was driving down country highways on a cold, rainy, and rapidly darkening November evening. It was getting darker earlier with every night, and today was no exception, the pitch black leaving only her headlights to illuminate the road. It was a swift drive over there, and Elena efficiently moved everything they needed from the house to the trunk of the car, taking only a minute on the threshold to let a tear fall. 

Within half an hour, she was back on the road, having double checked all the locks before leaving. The rain had progressively worsened as she drove, sending her windscreen wipers into overdrive. Elena dutifully slowed down, taking the corners carefully; she hadn’t been driving long and was a bit anxious about driving in such weather. The roads were slick and her visibility was hampered by the constant driving rain, and she could see headlights coming closer - large, bright headlights hurtling down the road. Elena squinted through the hammering rain, and felt her heart stop as she realised the headlights belonged to a semi truck speeding down the road. On her side of the road. Straight towards her. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a quick warning, there is car accident in this chapter and also a few scenes in the hospital. really nothing graphic/gory at all but just in case it's something that upsets you!

Elena’s breath caught in her throat, foot stepping on the brake pedal as she spun the wheel to the left, sliding out of the truck’s way before spinning it all the way to the right. She’d overcompensated, and on the wet tarmac her wheels skidded beneath her. Elena’s panic response kept her foot on the brakes, as she tried desperately to regain control, but before she could react her whole vision was spinning. 

The car rolled once, then twice, landing on its driver’s side in a pile of twisted metal and broken glass. Air rushed desperately into Elena’s lungs as her adrenaline-addled brain attempted to get any oxygen available into her body. She heard herself panting loudly, could feel the hot, wet trickle of blood running down her face. Her hands came up to claw at the seat belt tight over her chest, and she rolled her head to the side, seeing a slanted view of the road through the back windscreen. The truck was gone, not even a taillight in sight.

Elena groaned, coughing wetly as her panicked grabs at the seatbelt became more and more desperate. Her left arm was trapped by the weight of her body pressing it into the door, and she could feel the circulation cutting off. Elena pressed her eyes closed, stopping her movements and trying to gain some semblance of control over her breathing. She took slow, deep breaths, and when she opened her eyes she could almost think logically. Her right arm was still free and working, and she slid it down the seatbelt to the buckle, trying to release it, but somewhere in the rolling of the car it had been mangled and crushed, and Elena couldn’t free herself. 

She felt that bubble of panic rise in her throat again, attempting to strangle her, but she squashed it as soon as she could. Her phone. She needed to phone someone. Bar the truck, she’d only passed one other motorist, and she doubted anyone would find her anytime soon. And if they did, they were more than likely to crash into her all over again.

Her phone. Elena’s brain spun, trying to remember where she’d put it. Her jacket? Her jeans? With a jolt of memory, Elena could have slapped herself. It was in the glovebox. Caroline had been texting her non-stop when she’d left the lake house, and Elena had tossed it in there as not to distract her. Except now, she had no way to phone for help. She reached out with her free arm desperately, but with the seatbelt tight over her chest there was no way she could reach it. She swore loudly, and felt that familiar, familiar panic rising in her throat. What were the chances someone could be destined for two deaths in a car crash? 

Her head rolled back against the headrest, panic giving way to exhaustion. She saw that the downpour had stopped, the once heaving rain having moved on, leaving nothing but a soaked expanse of tarmac and the heavy smell of ozone and metal. Elena felt an absolute calmness seep through her bones, the wound on her head drying in the cold night.

She didn’t have the energy to panic anymore. Perhaps she would die out here, alone and freezing. Her thoughts were swirling, and Elena struggled to keep her eyes open any longer. Was she concussed? That could explain the overwhelming urge to slip into unconsciousness. Or was it hypothermia kicking in? The sheen of panic-induced sweat was evaporating icily. 

Elena felt her eyes closing, the relief of unconsciousness pulling her down, when she was awoken by a single, clear note of birdsong.

Familiar.

A panicked caw above her head. Elena struggled against the tide of pain in her head, turning to look through the broken passenger window to the night sky interrupted only by the black lines of her crow. She felt herself starting to cry, hot tears burning her freezing cold cheeks as her restrained chest heaved with emotion. She wasn’t sure she’d ever felt such relief before; it was almost parallel to waking up alive on the banks of the river all those months ago. Except now, she wasn’t saddled with unsurmountable survivor’s guilt. He cawed again, pulling her attention back to him.

“You,” she breathed, watching him swoop through the broken passenger window and land precariously on her steering wheel. 

He clicked once in warning before hopping onto her side, feet dancing lightly along her bruised ribcage. It pecked at the seatbelt, grasping it in its beak and tugging on it, to no avail. It crawled down her body, and Elena couldn’t help the ticklish giggle of it over her hip. She heard him attempt to release the buckle too, but his beak couldn’t manage to free her either. He moved back up, standing on her last two ribs before cawing quietly in apology. 

“It’s okay,” whispered Elena, feeling her mind drifting again,”It’s okay.”

He nipped the soft flesh above her elbow desperately, forcing her mind back to the present.

“Okay, okay, um, my phone,” she said, trying to pull her thoughts together. 

He nipped her again, and Elena swallowed heavily.

“The glovebox,” she breathed, pointing loosely with her right arm in the vague direction of the passenger side. 

The crow cawed in understanding, flapping over and putting all his weight into grasping the handle with his beak and prying it open. Elena’s phone came sliding out immediately, and he swiftly picked it up and pushed into Elena’s free hand. With her eyes struggling to remain open, Elena just managed to dial 911.

“You’re through to 911, what’s your emergency?” came the tinny voice on the other side, and Elena coughed trying to get her words out.

“I’m in a car crash,” she said, voice croaking, “I’m somewhere on Route 9.” 

Her head lolled behind her, sending a spike of pain through her skull. Where was she? She tried to remember those last moments before she saw the truck, had she passed something? 

“Near the car park for trail path five,” she managed, and she could make out furious typing on the other end of the phone.  
“Okay, I’m sending someone now. Are you hurt? Is anyone seriously injured?” asked the disembodied voice and Elena shook her head.

“N-No. Just me. I’m trapped,” she whispered before losing consciousness entirely, phone dropping into the numb palm of her left hand. The crow squawked rapidly above her head, hopping back and forth over her stomach and biting into the flesh of her upper arm, all to no avail. 

  
  
  


Elena awoke slowly and painfully to the rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor close to her head. She blinked rapidly, trying to adapt to the light flooding into her vision. It felt like she was waking up from the longest, groggiest nap of her life, chasing a dream she couldn’t remember. Her mind carefully took note of her limbs, feeling returning to her toes, calves, thighs; fingers twitching, blood flowing through her arms.

There was a distinct pain, sharp in her hand where the IV lay, tingling in her legs where she envisioned a mass of hot bruises. She ran a dry tongue over even drier lips, to no avail, and felt a painful cough rise in her throat. All she could manage was a hoarse grunt, and as her eyes roved around the room she saw a sleeping Jenna to her right, and a sleeping Stefan to her left. 

She attempted to cough again, rousing Jenna’s attention. With a wide, scared smile she stood up and clasped Elena’s hand in hers.

“Hey,” she said softly, thumb running reassuringly over Elena’s hand. 

Elena managed a smile in response, turning to watch as Jenna’s voice awoke Stefan and he too came and grasped at Elena’s wrist, careful of the IV port.

“Thank God,” he said, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. 

Elena’s gaze scanned the room, neck groaning at the attempt to lift her head.

“Jeremy?” she croaked, accepting the plastic cup of water Stefan lifted to her, his hand caressing the back of her head as he tilted it up.

“He’s on coffee duty,” explained Jenna, still smiling at Elena, who drank rapidly, spilling water down her chin and through the thin hospital gown. 

Stefan smiled in amusement, wiping her chin with the back of his hand as she tried to smile apologetically.

“How did I get here?” asked Elena. 

She had an inkling, a hazy dream-like memory of broken glass and wet tarmac, but none of it added up yet.

“You were in a car crash,” said Stefan, “on the way back from the lake house.”

Elena caught Jenna’s quick frown and swallowed thickly. She remembered going to the lake house and remembered Jenna being out of town. 

“I can explain,” she began, but Jenna cut her off with a squeeze of her hand.

“I know, and you will. But try and rest, okay?” she said quietly, and Elena attempted a nod.

“How long have I been out?” she asked, and Jenna and Stefan shared a look.

“Nearly 24 hours,” he said finally, and Elena raised a surprised eyebrow at him before glancing guiltily at Jenna. 

Last time she’d been in hospital she’d been unconscious a full two days and no one had been convinced she’d recover, and Jenna had been sat over her prone body waiting. Just like she had now. Elena tried to pull her thoughts together, explain, apologise, beg forgiveness, but everything was so much effort. Registering the feel of their hands on her skin was so much effort. It’d be easier to just sleep, and so she did.

The next time Elena opened her eyes, she could see that it was still dark outside the window, and Stefan was the only one still awake. Jenna had dropped back into sleep, and Jeremy was tucked up on an equally uncomfortable chair behind her. Stefan looked up at her as he registered the minute changes that signalled her waking up, smiling at her and pressing his thumb to her pulsepoint.

“How long this time?” she asked, and Stefan let out a breathy chuckle as he checked his watch.

“Only two hours,” he said, and Elena nodded in relief. 

She’d worried for a second she’d been unconscious for another whole day. She couldn’t see a clock but assumed they were nearing midnight. Elena’s gaze slid back to Jenna again, and she felt the familiar guilt rise again.

“What happened?” she asked quietly, and Stefan looked at Jenna too before pulling his seat closer to her head.

“You went to the lake house after school. Jeremy said you went to get all your winter stuff? You left it there last Christmas?” he began, and Elena nodded. 

She remembered that.

“You didn’t tell anyone. Not even me,” he continued, and even dosed on morphine, Elena could hear the undercurrent of hurt. 

She tugged her bottom lip between her teeth, pulling his hand closer.

“‘m sorry, Stefan. It… It was just something I had to do. By myself,” she said, and he nodded in understanding before continuing.

“And um, you were on your way home. They found all the stuff in the trunk of your car, and um, you were in a car accident,” he told her, barely concealed emotion breaking through. 

She squeezed his hand harder, an odd reversal of comfort considering she was in the hospital bed.

“It was a hit and run. The police have no idea who hit your car, but they think you tried to turn out of the way and just spun and flipped because of the rain. Your… your car was on its side, and you were trapped. You phoned 911 and passed out.” he finished, and Elena could feel fragments of memory sliding through her mind. 

Headlights, getting closer and closer. 

The squeal of tires. 

Blood drying by her head. 

Instinctively she lifted a hand to feel at the bandaged wound by her hairline.

“It was a truck,” she told him definitively, “It was coming straight for me, but I couldn’t see anything, the lights… they were too bright.”

Stefan looked at her sympathetically, shaking his head imperceptibly.

“The police don’t think they’ll find him,” he said quietly and Elena nodded. 

Somehow she wasn’t even angry about it. She’d never be able to remember enough to identify a truck in a lineup of thousands. Stefan watched her, frown line forming as though debating whether or not to speak again, when Elena finally took in his appearance properly. He looked tired and haggard, but more than that she could see the underlying jitteriness. More than was warranted considering she was very much alive and awake. She knew that within the hour his leg would start bouncing, and an hour after that his hands would properly shake. Stefan was hungry.

“Hey,” she said softly, grabbing his attention and pressing a thumb over his wrist, “no offence Stefan, but you look rough as hell,” she said with a smile, and he let out a huff of laughter. 

“You should head home and rest, and eat,” she continued, voice emphatic and he lifted an eyebrow as though surprised she had noticed, before frowning again and pressing his hand closer.

“I’ll be okay,” she reassured, tilting her head towards Jenna and Jeremy, “I’m not going anywhere and I won’t be alone.”

Stefan waited a beat before smiling down at her graciously.

“Thanks,” he said, “Stay safe now.”

Elena laughed briefly, feeling a twinge of pain along her ribs as Stefan stood and tugged on his jacket. He ran a hand along the side of her face, leaning down to brush his lips to hers in a chaste kiss.

“Later,” he said, and Elena smiled at him, watching his retreating form fondly. She ran her tongue over her lips, feeling the phantom touch of his against hers, and felt reassurance in his touch. 

Her gaze slid over the soundly sleeping Jenna and Jeremy, before landing back on Stefan’s empty seat, when her attention was caught by a flutter of movement outside the window. Black wings, landing on the thin sill outside as he settled down in her eyesight, head tilted to keep a weather eye on her. Elena felt her smile brighten at the sight.

“Hey,” she mouthed, feeling warmth spread in her chest. And with it, more memories flooded back. She could see him standing on the steering wheel, everything tilted to an angle; him fighting with the clasp of the glovebox as he fought to get it open, pressing the phone neatly to her hand. Elena swallowed heavily. She owed any rescue to him. 

“Thank you,” she mouthed, and he bent his beak into his chest feathers, ruffling them slightly as acknowledgement. 

Elena felt her eyelids growing heavier, the emotions in her chest tangling with the painkillers coursing her system. 

“‘night,” she managed to mouth over to him, eyes keeping watch on him as they slowly slid closed once more. 


	7. Chapter 7

_Elena knew that she was dreaming, except this time she wasn’t on the roads or in the woods around Mystic Falls, but rather was still in her hospital bed. Yet she must’ve been dreaming, as both Jenna and Jeremy had gone and her crow stood on the metal railing at the foot of her bed. She struggled to an upright position to look at him fully, weight supported by her elbows._

_She managed it for only a minute before sliding backwards, breath coming heavily. She was still heavily injured, even in dreams. In response the crow hopped forward onto her blanketed legs, so that she could see him properly. He snuggled down, doing a spin before settling into the blankets, wing feathers hiding his body. Elena’s memory flashed back to months earlier, when he’d made the exact same moves, curled up against her on the window seat._

_She reached out instinctively to touch him, and feel the warmth and silkiness of his feathers._

_“I wouldn’t be here without you,” she said sincerely, forefinger stroking over his beak._

_“I’m just glad I found you when I did,” he replied with a soft series of clicks._

_Elena nodded, body relaxing into the feeling of him alongside hers. She felt herself almost drifting, the tiredness of her conscious mind echoing even in her dreams._

_“I shouldn’t have left you,” he said, voice breaking through her hazed exhaustion, and Elena frowned at him blearily._

_“I shouldn’t have left town before, and left you alone,” came the voice, clear in Elena’s mind._

_“You couldn’t have gone far,” she joked quietly, continuing to stroke gently at his body._

_He gave a quick squawk at that, and it sounded a lot like a short laugh in Elena’s mind._

_“I’d always keep an eye on you,” he said, and Elena felt a strange tugging feeling in her chest._

_It was so full of contradictions; he’d told her he was leaving town, and she hadn’t seen him since, yet he’d come to her aid so quickly, and he’d said he’d always have an eye on her._

_“So were you here or not?” she asked, mind racing through what he truly meant, or what any of it meant._

_Not for the first time, the absurdity of it rose like a laugh in her aching breast._

_“Yes and no,” he said cryptically, the quiet cawing sounding exasperated, “I was still keeping an eye on you, and on the town, on my… friend.”_

_Elena gave him a dark look; he was complicating more than he was explaining, and despite her unconscious state, Elena was feeling foggy._

_“But you couldn’t know I was here. It wasn’t right, Elena. Not when you don’t know who I am,” he said, and Elena felt a thrill through her body._

_He’d never said her name before, but the word curled through her mind in that soft, masculine voice that conveyed his speech. She felt the breath leave her body in a shuttering exhale._

_“Then who are you?” she whispered, brow creasing as her hands slowed on his body._

_“I can’t tell you,” he said, and Elena felt another ridiculous laugh ripple out of her._

_“You’re a goddamn bird. Of my imagination, no less. You’re not some mysterious, omnipresent being,” she said._

_“Maybe not, but I saved your life. That was real, Elena,” he said, and she felt her breath tug at the use of her name again._

_It sent a shiver along her spine. It felt right, the way the word sounded in her mind. She lifted her hand from her body and scrubbed it over her tired, bandaged face._

_“I can’t deal with this,” she said finally, gazing directly at the black, expressive eyes tilted in her direction._

_“I know. That’s why I left. I wanted you to focus on your reality.” he told her, reduced to demure clicks against her blanketed legs, “But I’ll always keep an eye out for you.”_

_He turned his head quickly, where Jenna was sat in the real world, and Elena followed his eyeline to the empty space of the dream._

_“It’s morning. I’m glad you’re okay,” he said._

Elena jerked awake to a pressure on her right hand and light streaming through the windows of her room. She looked over but the sills were empty, and when she turned back, Jenna’s exhausted face looked at hers. There was movement out in the corridors, but Elena had no sense of what time in the morning it could be. Jeremy had gone again, so presumably it was after 9am; he struggled to wake up before then.

“What’s going on?” she asked Jenna, who held her hand tightly with a bright, illuminating smile. They did nothing to hide the dark shadows under her eyes.

“You’re coming home today,” said Jenna breathlessly, as though afraid to say it aloud and jinx it, “they’ve given you some painkillers but it’s mainly cuts and bruises. Nothing serious.”

“Today?” asked Elena quietly, and Jenna nodded. 

Elena’s gaze caught on Jeremy’s empty chair, and Jenna squeezed her hand tighter.

“He’s at school. It was a struggle but I convinced him to go. You’ll be there when he gets home, and he really needs his attendance kept up.”

Elena nodded in agreement, watching as a nurse entered and smiled at them both.

“Good to see you awake Elena. Now lets see what we can do about the IV, hm?” said the nurse, stepping around Jenna to start fiddling at tubes. 

Within the hour, Elena was back in her family home. Jenna was mollycoddling her, draping her over the sofa with a blanket and hot tea, when all Elena wanted was to be left alone. The police came by later that day and took a statement, to the best of her memory, but they doubted anything would come of it.

Elena shrugged. She wasn’t surprised. Stefan came round and wrapped an arm around her as he pressed close on the sofa, Jenna on the other side and a movie on the TV. Elena fell asleep like that, head resting on Stefan’s shoulder as the light from the TV made her drowsy. 

She was back at school within a couple of days, with Bonnie looking over her bruises and bandaged wrist in slight horror. She gave Elena a significant look, which Caroline spoke aloud with minimal subtlety.

“Another car crash? Is it possible for that to happen to someone twice in the same year?” she said, and Bonnie inhaled sharply, lip caught in her teeth as Elena shifted awkwardly.

“I guess so,” she said with a halting laugh, scratching uselessly at the bandage. 

“At least you’re okay, and you weren’t hurt,” said Bonnie, smoothing over the tension in the conversation, “will the insurance pay out?” she asked, turning it to more mundane topics.

“Jenna’s dealing with that, but I really hope so Bon. We’d be screwed if they don’t. Jenna can hardly afford a brand new truck,” said Elena, and Bonnie nodded sympathetically. 

“Fingers crossed then,” smiled Bonnie broadly, as Caroline closed her locker and tugged her arm over Elena’s shoulders in a hug.

“I’m sorry, Elena,” she apologised, before smiling and pulling a handful of papers out, “now here’s the chemistry notes you missed.”

Elena took the papers and sifted through them in shock.

“I’ve only been gone a few days!” she exclaimed, and Bonnie and Caroline laughed at her before heading off for the first period.

She didn’t see him again, and she hadn’t really expected to, yet her heart still sank. She double checked her window every evening, and awoke every morning in disappointment. No dream could ever live up to the ones he inhabited; they were never as vivid, or real, or exciting. She’d all but told him to not come back, but she was more eager than ever to see just a glimpse of him. A familiar spread of black wings and the characteristic tilt of a head.

It was a lot to deal with, and she really hadn’t processed it; she spent sleepless nights in bed, mind running through that final dream in the hospital, and her diary was page after page of Elena trying to make sense of it. She trusted him, and knew that he was somewhere, keeping an eye on her. He’d promised that much.

But he was a flying contradiction, and not for the first time, Elena was convinced it had all been imagined. She just wanted to see him one last time. Confirm it was real, confirm that he did still care for her. Despite everything, she cared for him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys we're halfway through, so congrats if you made it this far!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh hey we finally meet the other half of the main ship in the flesh oops

It was only a handful of weeks later, December quickly approaching and a biting chill in the air. The Grill had taken its outdoor seating inside, and that’s when locals knew winter was really beginning. Exams were on the horizon and Elena was suddenly feeling anxious. Junior exams weren’t exactly super  _ significant _ in the grand scheme of high school, but Elena had never been great under pressure. And it hadn’t been an easy semester either. 

Her nights were becoming more and more sleepless, tossing under the covers for hours on end trying to relax. Being with Stefan helped, his warm body pressed against her back and his hand running through her hair, but there were nights where even that didn’t work, and she’d be padding through the Salvatore house at 3am. She wished that vampires didn’t actually need to sleep, permanently insomniac like they were in the films, but Stefan really did need a solid 8 hours per night. It wouldn’t kill him, but he would be insufferably grumpy the next day. 

On one such night, Elena was at her own home, alone. Eventually, in the early hours of the morning, she fell into a fitful sleep, blankets twisted between her legs and pillows in disarray. It was better than nothing. As Elena fell asleep, she heard a familiar  _ tap-tap-tap _ against her window pane, before slipping into unconsciousness. 

_ Tap-tap-tap. A pause. Tap-tap-tap. Elena dragged herself out of her bed and over to the window, brow creased in annoyance. Except on the other side of the glass was her crow, and Elena felt a rush of emotion in her chest. Frustration warred with relief as she slid it open, allowing in a chilly draught alongside his inky black body.  _

_ “You’re back,” she whispered as he hopped forward and then back, dancing in agitation. _

_ “What’s wrong?” asked Elena quickly, heart beginning to race.  _

_ She’d never seen him like this. _

_ “Wake up. Wake up. Please, wake up,” he begged, the caws urgent and high pitched.  _

_ His voice was loud and insistent in her mind. Panicked. _

_ “Wake up and follow me. Please Elena. I need you,” he said, and Elena’s mouth went dry. _

_ “Wake up!” he squawked, the shrillness hurting, and Elena pressed her palms to her ears as his scream sounded through her head, eyes clenched shut against it. _

She woke up, heart thundering against her ribcage as her breath came in short pants. 

Instinctively, she turned to the window, and heard that insistent tapping. He was flapping urgently on the other side of the glass, and Elena nodded. This was real. She didn’t have a choice. She moved down the stairs as quietly as possible, stepping around the creaky planks from memory, before yanking on the fleece hanging over the railing and shoving her feet into her running shoes. She slid out the front door, letting it close behind her with a soft click. The crow came swooping down, landing on the railing of the porch and giving her a satisfactory once over before taking off again in a swift spread of his wings. 

“I’m coming,” said Elena, automatically picking up into a jog as he began flying down her street at a fast pace. It didn’t take long for her lungs to burn and her legs to ache as they pounded against the pavement with every step, but he showed no signs of slowing, only turning to check she was still following. As it turned out, jogging after a fully fledged bird was much easier in dreams than in reality, but Elena had never seen such panic and worry in his eyes. It scared her. 

He led her out of town, down familiar country roads skirting around Mystic Falls, before coming to a pause on a fence post by the side of the road. Elena was only a pace behind, but as she came to a stop she bent in half, hands gripping her aching thighs. Her breath came in short, sharp pants as she looked up to see the crow watching her intently, the only sign of anxiety in the constant ruffling of his wing feathers. Elena began breathing deliberately, inhaling deeply through her nose and out through her mouth.

“Are we close?” she asked haltingly, voice rough, and the crow cawed in affirmation. 

He tilted his head towards the woods and Elena nodded, taking another second to get her breathing under control. The crow lifted into the air and turned into the trees, flying at a much slower pace, as he had in the dream, knowing Elena struggled to keep pace between the branches. 

They didn’t go very far when the trees began to thin into a clearing, and Elena’s heart skipped a beat as she recognised it. She hadn’t been here in months, not since the crow had last taken her. It was the old cemetery, worn headstones peeking out of the overgrown grass. And there, behind a thick trunk, was the mausoleum he’d tried to show her. Surely that wasn’t what this was about? An old mausoleum from the Civil War? He can’t have forced her on a miles-long jog for that. The crow slowed further, landing on a low hanging branch, before cawing loudly and flapping emphatically towards the mausoleum. Elena caught her lip and swallowed heavily, before reaching out to touch him.

“What’s this about?” she whispered, hand running over his body, air steaming from his compact form. 

The flight had been strenuous for him too. He only cawed again, violently snapping his beak at her hand. Elena stumbled back to avoid his beak, frowning in shock. She took another step back, head turning to look at the old stone building, partially hidden. She glanced back at the crow, who only tilted his head once more in final encouragement. 

Her hand shook minutely by her side as she headed over, stepping over the hidden roots and stone fragments blocking her path, the moonlight pooled over the grass and dappling through the leafless tree branches above her head. As Elena rounded the ancient oak tree, her gaze fell on a dark figure collapsed on the steps of the mausoleum. Her pulse thrummed anxiously in her muscles, adrenaline filling her system as she felt the first clawing of fear in her throat. The figure coughed wetly, rolling slightly and sliding from the last step onto the ground with a groan. He swung his head round, and in the thin light Elena could see a mop of dark hair and a piercing gaze.

“Elena?” he said quietly, voice rasping. 

Elena gasped sharply before stumbling forward, mind racing. Why had the crow led her here in the middle of the night? That familiar panic rose once more, but she pushed it down as she got closer, and saw blood staining the stone steps. Elena went to her knees beside the body, and in that moment saw the rough end of a stake sticking out of his abdomen, another through both his hands, his left shoulder and right thigh. He was a vampire, and he was completely unable to move nor able to remove the stakes. 

“You’re a vampire?” asked Elena incredulously. 

She’d only ever met Stefan and Lexi, and Stefan seemed to have a vampire monopoly on Mystic Falls. Since Vicki’s attack at the start of term, no one had been harmed. 

“So that’s what you decide to ask me,” said the guy, breath huffing out of him as he winced sharply.

“Okay, okay,” said Elena quickly, “what should I do?” 

“Pull them out. Take the one in the stomach out last,” he said, eyes fluttering closed. 

“Okay,” repeated Elena, bracing herself over his body and putting both hands on the stake in his left hand.

“Ready?” she asked, and he squinted his eyes tightly shut before nodding once. 

Elena gave one long, hard pull and the stake came neatly into her hand. She moved to his other hand and pulled it out, then down to his thigh and repeated the action, before doing the same to his shoulder. All that was left was the thick, hand carved piece of wood protruding from his stomach. 

“I… I can take of that,” he said softly, shuffling into a sitting position with another wince. 

He grabbed it with both his hands, having semi-healed already now that the stakes were removed. He breathed in deep, and with the exhale of breath pulled out the stake quickly.

“Job done,” he said with a tight smile, and Elena looked at him in horror.

“What is going on?” she whispered, voice shaking in the cold air of the night. 

Adrenaline had been pushing her this far, on the journey from her house to here and the makeshift surgery on a vampire, but it was slowly draining. And Elena felt cold all over, and shaky.

“What’s going on?” she repeated, meeting the deep gaze of the man laid out before her. 

He reached out, hand grasping her bicep. 

“Elena. It’s okay,” he reassured, voice soft and normal as his wounds began to knit together.

“I led you here,” he continued, allowing her to absorb the information.

“You… you’re… the crow? It’s you? Vampires can do that?” she asked, blinking rapidly as her world tilted. Vampires could control animals? And this man here, he was her crow?   
“I don’t-” she began, but he cut her off.

“Elena, I’ll tell you everything, I promise, but we need to go, okay? This wasn’t an accident,” he said, waving a hand over the wounds on his body, “I was attacked by a hunter. There’s a hunter somewhere in Mystic Falls, and he’ll come back for me soon. So we need to go.”

“Right. Okay. Yeah,” said Elena, automatically wrapping an arm under his body and taking as much of his weight as she could bear as she struggled to get him upright. 

He leaned on her heavily, limbs sluggish beneath him.

“Where are we headed?” she asked, and he made a vague notion in the opposite direction to the road.

“My car’s nearby,” he said, moving off in that direction with stumbling steps, Elena keeping him upright with his arm tight over her shoulders.

“Right,” she said, following his lead. 

Elena had no idea where they were going, or how the heavy weight on her side knew which direction to take, because as soon as they left the clearing all of the trees began to blur together and look the same. Yet confidently he led them on a winding path between the trunks, limping at as fast a pace as he could manage. Finally the trees began to thin again, and in the scant moonlight Elena could see a dirt forestry track winding away from them, and a blue sports car parked to the side.

“That’s your car?” she asked with a frown. 

It was hardly an appropriate car to be driving down dirt trails.

“She gets the job done,” said the guy, his tone speaking volumes as he sensed Elena’s unspoken question. 

Elena didn’t respond to that, focusing instead on not tripping over anything as she picked up the pace. It was reassuring to find any symbol of normalcy, and a car meant a way of getting out of there. 

“I need blood to heal. I’ve lost too much already,” he said, and Elena felt her own run cold. 

Surely he couldn’t mean hers? He cut her off before that thought could get too far.

“I have blood bags in the trunk, don’t worry,” he said with a huff of laughter and Elena let out a nervous smile. 

He unlocked the car and Elena propped him against the side as she opened the trunk for him. 

True enough, there were half a dozen blood bags in there from Mystic Falls General. Hungrily he grabbed one and tore at the clasp at the top, drinking from it greedily. Elena watched closely and felt a beat of nausea. She wasn’t an idiot, and Stefan had told her that blood bags were pretty common, as to avoid a bloody, messy trail of bodies. Yet watching another person drink from one, dark veins bulging under his eyes, was a whole other sight. 

Except he’d only managed a few mouthfuls when he started retching, heaving onto one side and spitting up the dark liquid. Elena jumped back from the mess he was making and gasped audibly.

“Are you okay?” she asked, moving forward to touch at his back; she could feel the tremors in his muscles.

“No,” he said hoarsely, throat straining to work, “there’s vervain in this blood.” He gave a final, angry spit onto the ground beside his car.

“Vervain?” asked Elena quietly; she’d never heard of it, nor had any idea why it had caused that reaction. 

The guy rounded on her with a quizzical expression, as though he couldn’t believe she’d asked that question while wiping the bloody remnants from his mouth. He tried to straighten then, but found himself sagging back against the car, face pulled into a wince.

“Fuck,” he said, hand clasping at the wound on his abdomen. 

It wasn’t healing fast enough. He sagged even further as the vervain he hadn’t managed to spit out spread through his veins. It really wasn’t his night at all. Squinting one eye open, he focused on Elena, who was moving closer as if to pick him back up, panic on her face.

“I’m sorry to ask you to do this but I need you to drive. I’m too weak,” he said, voice slipping as he dug in his jeans pocket and managed to pull out the keys.

“Drive you? I haven’t driven…” said Elena softly, taking the keys from him but looking at them hesitatingly. 

She hadn’t driven since the accident. 

“Elena,” he said, dragging her gaze back to him and she absorbed his pale face, hand clutched to the bloody shirt he wore. 

He was drifting; eyes sliding shut and his muscles loosening. She didn’t have an option.

“Right,” she said with determination, gripping his upper arm in a tight vice and pushing him into the passenger seat, before shutting the trunk and climbing into the drivers. 

She pulled his seatbelt on for him and did the same herself. She wouldn’t be taking any chances. 

“Where are we going?” she asked, turning to look at him and giving him a slight thwack on the thigh to gain his attention. 

“Turn around and follow the track out of the woods. Then take me to Stefan,” he said, and Elena felt the increasingly familiar panic response slide up her spine. 

She did as asked and did a quick turn in the track before flitting her eyes to the man beside her. How did he know Stefan? 

“What’s vervain?” she asked again, trying to keep him conscious. 

She didn’t know much about vampire physiology but in first aid training they always told her to not let someone fall unconscious.

“Oh. Vervain,” he said quietly, “It’s a herb, but it works like poison for vampires,” he explained.

“Not garlic then?” asked Elena with a beat of amusement, and he smiled weakly.

“No, garlic’s fine. I’m surprised Stefan didn’t tell you about vervain. It’s a good way to protect yourself from other vampires,” he told her, giving her that same confused look.

“Do I need protecting?” she asked. 

She wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to know that answer; if Stefan thought she’d be at risk, surely he would have helped her protect herself. 

“Apparently not,” said the guy with a distinctive roll of his eyes, before turning to lean against the car door.

“So you know Stefan?” asked Elena, knowing it didn’t sound half as casual as she wanted it to.

“In a way,” he said as his eyes closed slowly. 

It was clear he wouldn’t take any more questions on the matter. Elena had made it off the forestry track and had hit the main roads, putting her foot hard on the gas towards the Salvatore house. They were only about 10 minutes away.

She eased the blue sports car down the driveway and came to an abrupt stop under the portico. She’d always wondered how old this building was; she knew it wasn’t Stefan’s ancestral home, yet she always pictured horse-drawn carriages pulling up under the roofed entranceway and a footman dashing to open the door. Elena shook herself physically and yanked herself from those inane thoughts, instead turning to focus on the man beside her. He was still breathing, and holding onto consciousness as his hand fumbled for the door. 

She got out the driver’s seat and dashed around the bonnet to grab at his door as he finally managed to push it open, taking a firm grasp of his elbow as he struggled upright. He was still leaning heavily against her as she twisted her arm around his back, hugging him close. Slowly they limped towards the front door, and just as Elena contemplated how to knock with her arms full, it swung open. And there was Stefan in his flannel pyjama pants and a faded grey tee, bathed in the warm light of the fire behind him. It was like an oasis in the madness of this whole night. Only now was Elena truly convinced that this  _ wasn’t  _ a dream, and that all of this had in fact been reality.

“Elena?” he asked, voice tinged with first confusion, and then alarm. 

Elena realised how she must appear; she’d gone to bed in sweatpants and a Fall Out Boy band tee from years ago. With a glance she confirmed her sweatpants were now muddied from the ankle up, and her t-shirt doused in blood. She looked back at him, an explanation and apology forming on her lips, but Stefan was no longer looking at her.

“Damon?” he said, voice even more incredulous now, and the man beside her twitched and struggled to raise his head.

“Hello, brother,” he managed with a wet croak before sliding out of Elena’s grasp as his legs finally failed him. 

Stefan dashed over the threshold and took hold of his other side, supporting most of his weight and began dragging him inside. Elena followed Stefan as he headed left towards the library, and together they deposited him on the long leather sofa in front of the fire. Elena’s exhausted, panicked brain wondered, not for the first time, why and how Stefan kept multiple open fires going in his house at all times of the year, but she shook the thoughts free. They were unimportant. 

The man,  _ Damon _ , her brain supplied, was now successfully laid out on the couch and Elena’s body finally caught up with her. She sagged into an armchair by his head, muscles going loose into the reassuring warmth. She was sure she could sleep here; just another minute or two and she’d be gone.

“Elena,” said Stefan quietly, and she slanted her eyes open to see him bent over the arm, hand trailing the ends of her hair.

“Sleep,” she responded simply, reaching up to clasp at his hand and slide their hands together before releasing it, and sinking further into the leather. Her body was drained, and the adrenaline that had pushed her this far had evaporated in the warmth and sanctuary of Stefan’s home. She’d be safe here - she was overwhelming sure of it, and slipped off to sleep without a thought in her mind.


	9. Chapter 9

Elena awoke to find herself in the same armchair she’d sank into, except this time there was a carefully draped blanket over her body. Stefan must have done that, after she’d passed out. Her eyes slid across to the sofa, and the guy was still laid out there, eyes tight shut in sleep.

It hadn’t been a dream at all. Elena stretched inelegantly, legs aching as she pulled them from beneath herself and set them on the floor. She rolled her neck and felt a twinge from where her head had lain against the back of the chair. The night’s sleep in the armchair would be felt for days.

“You’re up,” said Stefan from behind her, a crinkle of amusement in his voice as he came forwards with a coffee in one hand. 

Elena took it gratefully, giving him a small smile in return. Outside the night was still dark, but there was light edging through. She had no idea what time it was but she guessed it wouldn’t be long before dawn.

“You only slept a few hours,” Stefan told her, settling onto the coffee table in front of her, hands clasped together on his knees. 

Elena only quirked an eyebrow in response, taking a deep gulp of the warm coffee. It was good; only a splash of milk to help it cool and no sugar, just as she liked.

“What were you doing out there?” asked Stefan, pulling her attention back to him as his voice dropped low and quiet. 

He leant forward and touched a hand to her knee, thumb smoothing over the joint.

“Looking for me,” came the grizzled response before Elena could open her mouth, and both her and Stefan turned to look at the guy, who was struggling to sit up before thinking better of it and sliding back to a horizontal position.

“Second question,” said Stefan, with a distinct note of disdain, “what were you doing out there?”

The guy slid his eyes open and levelled Stefan with a deep, distrustful gaze.

“None of your business, brother,” he said, the final word dripping with sarcasm. 

Elena knew that she was missing something in the conversation, something neither of them had told her, yet she prevaricated between interrupting and letting them continue. With a roll of his eyes, Stefan made the choice for her.  
“Elena, this is my brother Damon. Damon, this is Elena,” he said, making a vague notion between them.

“Your brother?” asked Elena, feeling the mug wobble minutely in her grasp, “as in like, real life, same parents, blood brother?”

“The one and only,” responded Damon with a smirk, and Elena turned and looked at his face properly. 

Under the warm lights of the library she could see that brotherly similarity; the distinctive brow and upturned lips, yet his eyes were sharper, and his features less square, more _feline_. He looked like a cat caught between predatory and alluring. Elena wasn’t sure which one she saw better, and instead turned to look back at Stefan. This was safe, looking at Stefan. The honest, open eyes and expressive face. 

“You never mentioned a brother,” she said, her voice sounding easy yet there was a note of upset. 

Why had he never mentioned him?

“We’re…” began Stefan, stumbling briefly as he tried to find the right word. Elena’s frown deepened.

“Estranged,” filled in Damon easily, “we haven’t spoken in decades.”

Elena nodded quickly, feeling the information sliding into place. She wasn’t exactly pleased that Stefan had kept this from her; as far as she was aware she knew everything else about his family, but she smiled reassuringly at him anyway. She trusted him. Stefan looked across at Damon, eyes scanning him from head to toe and back again, as though that alone would reveal his secrets, before turning back to Elena.

“Why were you in the woods?” he asked again, voice softer this time, as though he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to hear the answer.

Elena opened her mouth and then closed it again. 

Where to begin in explaining all this? Her eyes slid to Damon’s. She could scarcely believe that this had been her crow; she had trusted him, had touched him and heard him and _felt_ him, when in reality it had been a vampire all along. And Stefan’s brother to boot. She wondered if she should feel violated by the way he had entered her life and her dreams, but she didn’t.

Looking at Damon was like looking at her crow; they matched almost, his piercing gaze ricocheting through her just as the crow’s insistent black eyes had. She almost wanted him to speak up then, explain to Stefan for her, but he remained mute. Stefan cleared his throat gently, and Elena tore her gaze to his, her face falling open like a book. He already looked hurt, but Elena didn’t know why, nor how to stop it.

“It was June,” she began, casting her mind back to the start of summer, to the start of all this. Beside her she felt Damon let out a deep exhale, yet kept her gaze resolutely fixed on Stefan. It felt like a confession, only she didn’t know exactly what she was confessing.

Yet Elena confessed anyway; recalling that first dream soon after her parents death, the running through the woods; and then the Civil War cemetery, the mausoleum, the ringing in her ears; and finally, Damon taking her to the ‘Welcome’ sign after the first day of school. Consciously or not, she was scant with the details. Stefan didn’t need to hear how it felt to hear his voice in her mind, or the relief when she turned on Wickery Bridge and saw him there. She told him how sometimes at night she’d write her diary, and see the crow waiting on the other side, settling himself to sit. She didn’t tell him how more often than not she’d let him inside, and he’d settle by her thigh. Nor did she tell him about the crash, the crow giving her the phone and saving her life.

Instead she told him about tonight, about the crow begging her to follow, and finding Damon, half-dead on the forest floor. Looking up from her twisting, sweaty palms, Elena saw Stefan as rigid as a pole, tense from his head to his feet. She felt a chill in her bones as he lifted his head and levelled her an unblinking gaze.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he asked, voice pitched low and edged with hurt. 

Elena swallowed instinctively and pushed her hands together to stop them from shaking.

“I…” she stumbled, before swallowing and trying again. 

“After my parents died, I was convinced I was imagining it all. That I’d dreamt a crow on which I could unburden. And I couldn’t tell anyone that summer, could I? How would Caroline have reacted if I told her this? And by the time I met you, and Bonnie told me about her magic I… I just wanted something to myself. This was mine. Not some supernatural secret to be spread about,” she said finally, refusing to let her voice quiver. 

It had been almost a thrill to hold onto this. To have a secret and hold it close. She didn’t need Bonnie casting spells on her dreams to try and figure it out. It had been hers, and hers alone. Stefan watched her still, before giving a scant nod and sighing heavily.

“I can’t fault you for that,” he said, and Elena felt that familiar swell in her chest; Stefan could be so _selfless_ sometimes. 

She almost wanted him to be more upset and angry with her, rather than letting her guilt manifest and telling her it was okay.

“But you, what were _you_ thinking?” he asked sharply, swinging his gaze back to Damon, and Elena recognised the simmering rage beneath, yet Damon barely reacted, flippantly moving a hand in front of him.

“Well when I first saw her-” he said, only to be cut short by a vehement “ _no”_ from Stefan. 

Damon lifted an eyebrow at his brother, and Elena could see a slight smirk at the side of his lips.

“Well, regardless of what I thought when I first saw her, it was a bit of harmless fun Stefan. Nothing to get worked up over.”

“Infiltrating her dreams is nothing to get worked up over?” asked Stefan incredulously, and Damon tried to shrug as best he could. 

“I never outright controlled them, just slid through. Besides, it’s not like you had a fuckin’ claim on her Stefan, all you did was sav-” said Damon, only to be cut short by a low, throaty growl from Stefan. 

Damon shut up, but Elena saw that small smirk once more.

“I’m also still here. In case anyone noticed,” she said defiantly, drawing both of their attention towards her. 

“You.” she said, looking over to Damon directly, “Is this your ‘old friend’?” she asked, and the silence only served for confirmation. 

“That’s why you left after the first day of school,” she said, confirming aloud what was already adding up in her mind. Damon looked down then, only proving Elena’s theory right. She subconsciously bit her lip. No wonder he’d been so determined to leave her alone.

“And you,” she said finally, feeling her anger simmer once more as she rounded on Stefan, “I don’t know what kind of secrets you’re keeping, or why you can’t let Damon finish his sentences, but it’s not okay,” she told him. 

It almost felt juvenile to say as much, but as she watched him, she saw the tension reignite along the ridge of his spine. He was keeping things from her. 

“Feel free to find me when you want to start talking,” she said, before standing and leaving the room. She knew the coffee would still be hot and she was more than ready to take advantage.

  
  
  


If she was a vampire, Elena was sure she’d have heard lowered, angry voices hissing back and forth in the library. Thankfully, as a human Elena heard nothing except the beginnings of birdsong outside the kitchen window. She realised that regardless of what was happening here, she’d have to leave soon - Jenna may be a relaxed guardian but she still wasn’t okay with Elena sneaking out. Especially after the car accident.

A noise caught her attention, and she looked from the window to the doorway, where Stefan stood, frame hunched over.

“Another cup in there?” he asked and Elena nodded, slinking away from the coffee machine as Stefan collected a cup and finished off the pot. 

“I’m sorry for keeping things from you,” he said finally, taking a deep swallow before looking up at her, “I was only trying to protect you.”

“From what, Stefan? What truth is so bad it’ll hurt me?” she asked him indignantly as he lowered his gaze. 

She knew he most likely had his reasons, and probably good ones at that, but it still hurt to know he kept things from her. Felt she couldn’t handle certain things.

“Well what about yourself?” said Stefan, frustration bleeding through his voice. 

He knew he was dodging Elena’s question, but he still felt the hypocrisy in her words.

“You kept stuff from me too.”

Elena felt her eyes widen before exhaling roughly.

“That’s not comparable, and you know it. I kept one secret to myself, and had absolutely no idea that it would have an impact on you. Christ, half the time I was convinced if I told anyone, they’d lock me up.”

Stefan drank his coffee, refusing to meet her eyes. He knew that was true, knew there was no way to avoid what was coming. He’d already destroyed any attempt at lessening the blow.

“I know,” he said finally, softly, resting his mug on the counter and holding his palms open. Placating. 

“I know why you didn’t tell me. You didn’t know who he was, either. But I can’t apologise for trying to protect you. I couldn’t deal with you hating me,” he said, meeting her eyes. 

Elena felt her breath shake then, trying valiantly to control it once more.

“And that’s why you should have told me, whatever it is, Stefan. If you thought it would change how I see you, then I deserve to have the whole truth and make a judgement for myself.”

Stefan blinked slowly, feeling his own chest constrict. Sometimes he could forget that Elena had seen more than most, that she had a maturity burgeoning near the surface. And at times like this, he felt her maturity outshine his own. Over 150 years old he may be, but technically he was still 17. He opened his mouth as though to respond, when a sick thud and barely veiled whine echoed through the house. Elena looked through the doorway startled, before heading back towards the library with Stefan in tow.

Damon had clearly made an aborted effort to stand and move, only to have immediately sunk under his own weight and slid bonelessly to the ground. Elena and Stefan managed to maneuver him back onto the sofa. Without a word, Stefan lifted Damon’s dirty shirt only to find the stake wound in his abdomen still not knitted together, rather black with coagulated blood, dirt and sweat. He let out a steady breath.

“The stakes must’ve been vervained,” he explained to his brother, and Damon nodded before wincing.

“Vervained?” asked Elena behind him, and without turning Stefan responded.

“The wood can be soaked in a water that has been steeped with vervain and it prevents healing.”

Elena nodded behind him, wincing herself as Stefan prodded at the wound. 

“I can’t heal,” said Damon, voice low as he looked at Stefan with that direct, unyielding gaze.

“I gave you blood,” said Stefan, brow creasing as Damon rolled his eyes beneath him.

“Your blood will never work and you know it. Are you telling me there’s not a single blood bag in the house?” he asked, and Stefan shook his head.

“I don’t drink it. You know that.”

“Well unless you can find some asap, I don’t know how much of a brother you’ll have left,” said Damon simply, and from all of their relationship Elena had seen thus far, she half expected Stefan to leave him there to die. 

Instead Stefan swore, turning his head away as he clenched his eyes in thought. She saw Damon, sprawled inelegantly on the couch, shirt rucked up to his ribs and exposing the messy, unhealed wound. He was pallid, more so than Stefan was without his coffee, and there was the unmistakable sheen of sweat on his brow. He looked like he was dying, and the weakened, raspy inhale-exhale of his chest only seemed to confirm it. 

“Take mine,” she said suddenly, breaking the heavy breathing of the two brothers. 

Both swung to look at her, Stefan incredulous and angry, Damon with an eyebrow raised, almost in admiration.

“Elena,” was all Stefan said, slowly shaking his head, yet that single word was weighted. 

She could hear his arguments already; it wasn’t safe, she’d never done it before, Damon might not stop. Elena only gazed back in defiance.

“Just enough to heal,” she said, stepping forward to kneel beside the couch, looking up at Damon earnestly.

He watched her movements with a critical eye as she slid the fleece from her shoulders to the floor. She moved her wrist towards him and he grasped it with one hand, already feeling the hunger for her blood pushing through his rational mind. He looked up then, clocked eyes with Stefan, who looked more disappointed than anything else. The desire to argue, push Elena away and beat Damon black and blue simmered within him, but he also knew how trying to stop her would backfire. He saw the woman he’d spoken to in the kitchen; so rightful of her own mind, and swallowed heavily.

“She knows her own mind,” he told Damon, and that was all the permission he needed as he grasped Elena’s wrist to his mouth, fangs descending and his eyes turning that reddish-black of a monster. 

Elena gasped in shock as he pierced her flesh, the burning pain spasming through her wrist, only to be swiftly replaced with a rush of endorphins. The pain barely registered, instead her mind focusing on the pulsing sensation, the feeling of his lips suckling at her skin and his tongue insistently lapping over the wound with every swallow. She let her eyes slide closed, enraptured by the feel of him on her wrist, hands holding her tight to him.

Eventually she opened them again, taking in the thickened veins under his eyes and the bloody trail towards her palm, and a heartbeat later he pulled away, running the back of his hand over his mouth and looking at her through heated, lidded eyes. 

Elena’s heart raced faster then, attention only dragged away as Stefan pressed at her hand and wiped over the puncture wound with an antiseptic wipe, caressing gently at the injured arm. He placed a gauzy pad over her wrist and stuck it down with soft touches, still holding the wrist as he finished and looking up to Elena’s face.

“You okay?” he asked, and she nodded quickly.

“Yeah, I’m good. Doesn’t hurt,” she said before sliding her gaze to Damon, who’d returned to draping himself over the back of the sofa, tongue lazily lapping at his stained lips.

“Better,” he said, voice hoarse as he dropped a hand to the wound on his abdomen. To Elena’s amazement, she watched as the skin literally began to knit back together, closing and sewing the skin without intervention.

“We should get you home,” said Stefan and Elena nodded, looking back at him with a thick smile. 

“I could drive?” he offered but Elena shook her head.

“Thanks, but I’ll walk. I’ll be home long before the sun rises. Besides, I don’t think I want you to,” she told him quietly before rising to stand and grabbing her fleece on the way. 

She headed out the library, sturdy in her steps despite her recent blood loss.

“Later then,” she said to both of them with a backward glance, heading out of the Salvatore house on the long walk home.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> things only get spicier from here as Elena learns all the Salvatore secrets

Stefan didn’t come to school that day, and Elena was almost grateful. She didn’t want to see him beside her in history or across the table from her at lunch. Nor did she want him to see her struggling to focus, barely muddling through the work set for her. Bonnie had checked in on her at lunch, but she’d given her a well-honed smile and promised she was fine. But Elena wasn’t so sure she was, mind reeling from everything that had happened the night before. 

It had only been in the shower that morning as she washed a night of sweat, blood and dirt from her body that she’d even begun to process. 

Her thighs hurt from the sheer amount of running and walking she’d done, but that was nothing for her heart. She had trusted Stefan, and still did for all it mattered, but she felt lied to. Elena could recognise her own hypocrisy, appreciated that, but she had her reasons. To hold one thing close just for herself was one thing, but whatever Stefan was keeping secret was clearly something Damon thought she deserved to know. 

And Damon; he hadn’t told her the truth either, but how could he explain something like that? Hell, until last night Elena hadn’t the faintest clue that vampires could control animals. And as she replayed their conversations from last night, she felt a frown form on her face. She just wanted to know the truth. 

School ended as quickly as it had begun for Elena, and seeing her distraction, Caroline had cut into her path as they left at the end of last period.

“Lift?” she asked brightly, lifting her keys in Elena’s face. Elena smiled gratefully at Caroline and nodded quickly.   
“Could you drop me by Stefan’s though?” she asked, quickly feeling an excuse forming, “I’m just worried about him missing class,” she explained and Caroline nodded.

“Yeah, sure. Wish him the best for me,” she said, already heading towards her car. Elena felt the tiny white lie prey on her mind, heart heaving with the weight of it. When had her lying become the new normal like this?

As Elena pushed through the permanently unlocked front door of the Salvatore boarding house, the first thing she noticed was how quiet it was. Normally, Stefan would be coming down the stairs as she came through the door, moving deliberately slowly and heavily at a human pace. He was nowhere in sight - he usually greeted her by the door, having heard her approach.

“Stefan?” she called timidly, to no response. 

Elena felt a rush of air along her back and spun instinctively, only to find Damon resting casually against the wall of the entranceway.

“Elena,” he said with a quirk of his lips, and to Elena’s relief he was no longer bloodied and pale; rather he was wearing a black long sleeved tee and black jeans, paired with green socks that seemed incongruous.

“Is Stefan here?” she asked bluntly, and Damon shook his head.

“He’s out thinning the Mystic Falls squirrel population,” he explained, sliding the door closed behind her before stepping directly in front of her.

“Drink?” he asked, and Elena swallowed before shaking her head. 

Damon shrugged noncommittally, moving away to pour himself a generous measure of bourbon from the always-full decantar. If Elena hadn’t known the truth about Stefan, she’d have run a mile the first time she came here. On the surface, he looked like the world’s weirdest and worst underage alcoholic with the stocks of good bourbon and vintage wine he kept. 

“Not even coffee? Or juice maybe?” asked Damon teasingly as he took a sip and Elena rolled her eyes.

“I’m not an actual child, y’know,” she said and Damon smiled broadly.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t tease you,” he said, and Elena smiled back warmly. 

Damon slid away from the drinks table and settled easily into one of the sofas in their main living room, sitting close to the roaring fire. Elena looked around briefly before decisively sitting on the sofa opposite him. She might as well wait for Stefan and gain the advantage of surprise. She somehow suspected that he wouldn’t expect to find her here. Damon looked her up and down introspectively before opening his mouth to speak.

“School?” he asked earnestly, and Elena sank back onto the couch, allowing her muscles to relax into it. 

He looked at her expectantly, clearly wanting to hear her answer.

“Rough,” she managed, “I was well… a bit distracted, shall we say.” 

Damon huffed into a laugh then before taking a generous sip.

“It was a night of revelations to be sure,” he said, watching the liquid swirl in the glass, legs forming as proof of its quality. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were his brother?” asked Elena quietly, and Damon snapped his gaze to hers. 

He suddenly felt rather exposed as she gazed him down, eyes wide.

“Hm,” he said, feeling his tongue grow heavy in his mouth, “I didn’t want to mess anything up. I guess… Stefan’s good for you. And I think you’re good for him too. Last time there was a girl, well… bad things happened,” he finally managed.

If it wasn’t for the sincere honesty permeating his words, Elena would have gotten angry once more. These brothers could obfuscate and dance around a subject like no one else she knew.

“You were trying to protect me?” she finally surmised, and Damon only raised an eyebrow. Elena felt her mind connect the dots as she thought through her summer, things revealing themselves only with the benefit of hindsight.

“You saw us meet on the first day of term and decided to go away? To always stay just out of sight - enough to rescue me, but not enough to let me know you were still there?” she asked, and felt an indignation worm its way into her words.

“Hey, Elena, I was just a bird. Stefan was a really, breathing, almost-human guy. I thought I was doing you a favour. Besides, I didn’t want Stefan to know I was here. There’s bad blood. He’d have tried to run me out of town. Like he did at the cemetery,” said Damon, holding his hands up placatingly as he spoke.

“Cemetery?” asked Elena in confusion, and Damon nodded.

“The second dream. The mausoleum. He didn’t want anyone going near, in case his secret was exposed,” he explained, and Elena hummed in agreement. 

She could remember the sharp pain in her skull as she’d tried to get closer to the mausoleum during her dream, and shook her head to rid herself of the memory. She refocused on what Damon had said, and asked about the other interesting statement he’d made.

“Bad blood?” she asked, “is this why he kept cutting you off last night?” 

She was so close to learning the truth she could feel it; yet as Damon gazed into his glass of bourbon and drained, she felt as though he still wouldn’t give her the benefit of the whole story.

“Yeah, I guess it is,” said Damon finally, rising to pour himself another glass.

“So will you tell me?” she asked, and felt Damon’s gaze upon her. 

It felt familiar; equal parts admiration and contempt. He looked reluctant, yet with a heavy sigh he lowered his glass to the table.

“Don’t move,” he told her, and with Elena frowning on the sofa he darted up the stairs and returned in only a moment, a thick leather notebook in one hand. 

“Damon?” she asked, shifting forward as he sat opposite her once more. He opened the notebook and to Elena it appeared to be lists of names and locations, alongside a series of contacts and addresses.

“An address book?” she asked him, and Damon returned his trademark smirk.

“Address book and alias book all in one,” he said, and Elena frowned.   
“Alias?”

“It’s easy to forget who I’ve told my real name to. Isn’t convenient when I go back somewhere after 40 years and introduce myself as Damon Salvatore to the same dude I did back in the 70s.”

Elena laughed then. 

Yeah, that sounded problematic. Eventually Damon flipped his way to the front of the notebook, moving past photos and newspaper clippings. It looked like more than just addresses. It was his history, all written down. She saw a flash of the Mystic Falls Herald, old and worn. The deaths at the Salvatore house in the 50s. He’d been keeping track of Stefan. 

She swallowed the questions that rose in her throat, waiting for him to show her what it was he’d wanted to. Towards the front, he slid a photograph from between the pages, sepia toned and yellow from age, corners thumbed from repeated use. Damon had looked at this photo many times, and with only a minute reluctance he passed it to Elena. And Elena inhaled sharply as she looked at an identical portrait of herself dressed up in an outfit from the 19th century, hair curled tight over her head. She opened her mouth but no words escaped, until her eyes slid to the curled script, faded from age, underneath.  _ Katherine _ .

“This… is Katherine?” she asked, voice shaky despite her attempts to regulate it.

“That’s her,” confirmed Damon, moving to lean back slightly, eyes critically analysing the lines of Elena’s face. 

In truth, he had no idea how she would react to this. 

“She looks like me.”

It took all of Damon’s strength to not laugh at the absolute obviousness of that, instead biting on his lip in restraint and watching Elena process.

Her mind was running in circles, and she stood up quickly and began pacing back and forth in front of Damon as she ran through the possibilities. Was this why Stefan was interested in her? Because she looked like his ex from 150 years ago? Surely not, she tried to tell herself, Stefan was so genuine with her. He did truly care for her, she was sure of it. Yet the doubt crept through her mind; what if, what if she was merely a replacement? A knock-off for his true affections? 

Elena shook her head viscerally, still pacing. She looked at the photo in her hands, the smirk at the corners of her lips, eyes glistening even through the lens. It felt like so much suddenly slid into place, and she paused her movements as she felt the revelations overwhelm her.

“Wait,” she said, turning to face Damon, finally making sense of things. “Is this why you and Stefan can’t stand each other? Did a woman… did Katherine get in the way? Were you both jealous?”

Damon closed his eyes as Elena finally began to figure it out. Now that Elena had spoken it aloud, he was almost ashamed to tell her the full truth. It suddenly made him feel very childish and immature to expose the actions of the men they used to be, so long ago.

“We both loved her. She slept with both of us and played us off one another,” he told her, slanting his eyes open to watch her reaction. 

Elena absorbed that, already moving on.

“And now? Do you still love her?” she asked, and Damon held her gaze steady and unmoving.

“She’s the reason I came back to Mystic Falls,” he told her, and really, it was as simple as that.

“Why?” asked Elena, brow furrowing, and Damon made an almost dismissive gesture.

“I was going to rescue her from where the original town council trapped her.”

“You were going to? What about now?”

“Things have changed,” he said, moving his gaze away from hers. 

A rookie mistake, and Elena only frowned further and dropped her voice.

“Things?” she asked hesitantly, and Damon swallowed heavily.

“Yeah, things. When I first saw you I thought you were Katherine. I couldn’t believe it. So I watched you, but you were you. Not her. And you were hurting, Elena. I saw you hurting for so long,” he said, unable to meet her eyes and Elena felt her whole chest seize then, the final pieces of the puzzle sliding into place. 

He’d been trying to help her all summer, keep her safe, make her happy. 

She closed her eyes against the weight of it. Damon had come to Mystic Falls for Katherine and stayed for her, and when he saw her with Stefan, he had left her alone. It was almost selfless, but that word was so at odds with how Stefan had presented him to her. 

For Stefan, his brother was selfish and narcissistic, yet all Elena could see was her crow keeping her sane night after night. At that moment Stefan entered the living room, shirt sweaty from him running, and his eyes immediately dropped to the photo of Katherine in Elena’s hand. 

  
  



	11. Chapter 11

There could be no masking the heavy exhale that escaped Stefan as he stood there, heart thundering in his chest. He looked from Elena, wide eyed in disbelief and Damon, who sat resolutely, refusing to meet his brother’s eyes.

“What- what is that?” asked Stefan, nodding towards the photograph, and Elena lifted it slightly, frowning deeply at him.

“What does it look like, Stefan? It’s your ex,” she said, and Stefan moved forward, opening his arms towards her in a show of placification.

“Look Elena, I can explain, I promise. I don’t know what’s been said but I can explain everything to you,” he tried, still moving closer to her but Elena shook her head.

“It’s a bit late, don’t you think? Why couldn’t you tell me the truth when you told me her name?” she asked, passing the photo back to Damon. 

She didn’t want to see it anymore, see her eyes glinting back at her. “Is it… did you… did you not tell me because that’s why you’re with me?” she asked him finally, wringing her hands in front of her body. 

There. She’d said it. Elena closed her eyes to Stefan’s earnest face, unwilling to see or even hear his response. She feared it. 

“No, Elena. I admit when I first saw I thought… but no. I’m with you, for you,” he said and Elena felt her head shake slightly.

“So that’s why you followed me to the cemetery the first day of school? And came to see me later? Because you thought I was her?”

“Yes, and then when I realised you weren’t so I stuck around and got know you,”

“And when you did know me, what, you just decided to not tell me the truth? That your ex is an exact carbon copy of me? That’s not creepy at all, Stefan. Didn’t you think I deserved to know?” she asked, voice raising in indignation, and Stefan poured all his energy in not throwing his hands in the air.

“Hell Elena, what do you want me to say? I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, it wasn’t right, I know that, but Christ, isn’t that what Damon did too? It’s not like he told you the truth either!” said Stefan quickly, turning to glare heatedly at his brother. 

Damon stood there, raising his arms in surrender.

“I’m not getting involved in this, brother. All I did is is tell her this truth,” he said, turning to face the fireplace and effectively leaving the conversation to Stefan and Elena. 

Except Stefan wasn’t having that.

“Damon, that wasn’t up to you! It wasn’t your story to tell, yet off you go and tell her anyway. I don’t know what I expected having you here because you’re as selfish and untrustworthy as usual,” said Stefan, forcing Damon to turn and face his words, and Damon’s face was like thunder.

“It was the truth Stefan, and Elena deserved to know. Deserved to know it from the day she learnt about Katherine! Isn’t that what you’re always preaching - telling the truth? How about you try it some time,” retorted Damon, stepping forward into Stefan’s personal space, and Elena took a very deliberate step back. 

She was trapped in the middle of their argument, and felt the weight of it both literally and figuratively. They remained glaring at one another for a moment longer before Elena stepped back between them, arms pressing lightly to their chests. She didn’t want to be fought over like this. 

“Damon isn’t my boyfriend and so it shouldn’t have been down to him telling me about her. That should have been you, Stefan. That’s on you. Letting me… feel for you when you knew that I looked like her,” explained Elena quietly, avoiding Stefan’s eyes on her. 

She felt Damon breathe heavily beside her before turning away, a snarl curling his lips.

“Now whatever is happening with Katherine we can figure it out. You’re not off the hook-” she said, looking pointedly at Stefan before continuing, “But what else is there?”

Both Damon and Stefan glanced at one another and then away, and Elena felt the weight of their untold story pressing in the room. This was something neither wanted to admit, and Elena felt the indignation of not knowing growing in her chase.

“I know there’s something else. Damon said he told me “this truth”, so what others are there?” she asked, and saw Damon roll his eyes beside her at his own mistake. 

Stefan sighed deeply before lifting his head and fixing his gaze on her, eyes pained and tired.

“Katherine fed us both her blood, and our father shot us. That’s how we became vampires. But the last step is to feed human blood and that completes the transition. Without, you just die,” he said, letting Elena absorb the information with a rapid blink.

“Okay so you both… killed someone. I know you aren’t saints.”

“I… I killed someone. My father. And then, then I took a serving girl and took her to Damon. He didn’t want her, wanted to die, but I… I forced him to. Made her bleed so that he had no choice,” he said, struggling to hold Elena’s gaze as he told her his worst shame. 

Elena felt a coldness creep through her body; shock at what she’d just heard, and the fear of the images it produced. 

Stefan, rabid with bloodlust and hunger, presenting a torn and bleeding girl to Damon to force his hand. It was so callous and selfish of him, yet as she looked over to him she saw the self-hatred sweeping through him and she immediately looked away. 

Elena couldn’t bear to see him like that, so revolted with himself he struggled to meet her gaze. With a thick swallow Elena came to realise what she’d always known, but could never quite admit; there were many, many sides to Stefan, and she only knew a few. And she didn’t know which ones were real. Elena swallowed again, closing her eyes against the tension in the room before opening them and running her tongue over her lips.

“I need to think,” she finally told them both, turning to leave and exiting through the back door. She walked into the copse of woods surrounding the boarding house, following the overgrown and mossy trail that ran through the trees. She just needed to  _ think _ . 

Quite without intending to, Elena ended up at the stone bench under the shadowy sycamore near the edge of the property. Once upon a time it had been frequented by couples at the boarding house, far away from the main building and hidden by the long branches of the tree. Elena sat down and felt the bench shift unevenly on the roots beneath it but she steadied herself and slid her eyes closed. It was peaceful. The sun was beginning to wane; it was still early, but there was the lingering warmth of a winter’s day as it slowly sank beneath the horizon, leaving Elena washed in orange light. 

She exhaled slowly, feeling her limbs become heavy as she relaxed into the bench. It was quiet enough that she could hear the last remnants of birdsong in the treetops and the rustle of a light breeze nearby, shaking the bare branches above her. 

There was a beat of wings near her head, and Elena looked up to see a black shape swoop slowly towards her and land on the bench beside her, the size and weight of it familiar. 

“Damon,” she breathed, the name sounding almost strange in her mouth. 

It still felt weird trying to conflate the crow she knew so well with the man she’d left in Stefan’s house. The crow hopped closer and burrowed its beak gently into her thigh, nuzzling against her. Elena knew once more, that if she had vampire level hearing she’d be able to hear arguing in the boarding house. And she didn’t have to be a narcissist to know she’d be at the centre of it all in some capacity; Stefan accusing Damon of manipulating her and being jealous, and Damon retorting that Stefan was equally manipulative and had withheld information. The worst of it was that Elena knew neither was actually wrong. 

She reached out automatically and stroked over the body of her crow, seeking comfort in the warmth of his feathers. A part of her wanted to start spilling how she felt and what she thought, trusting the crow as she always had, but Elena bit her tongue. Knowing the truth as she did now, it didn’t seem right, or fair, to tell Damon the inner workings of her mind. Especially not when all Elena could overthink right now was Stefan. She let out a steady exhale, feeling the chill of a winter evening slide up her spine. 

“I don’t know who to trust anymore. Or what to believe, or who has my best interests at heart,” she said aloud finally, hand stilling on the crow’s body, “All I do know is I refuse to be Katherine; I am not her, and will not come between them.”

The crow cawed gently at that, head pushing closer to the flesh of her thigh. It seemed to be good enough for him.

Elena heard a snapping and rustling from the direction of the house, and as she looked up, Damon himself appeared at the clearing. She noticed his presence, and as she did the crow slipped from under her hand and darted away into the treetops. Elena ran her eyes over Damon’s body in the fast-growing darkness; he looked pallid, more than Stefan normally did, and almost seemed breathless at the walk over here. With a jolt of understanding, she realised that the last time he’d fed was probably the scant blood she’d offered the night before, and graciously she moved on the bench, giving him space to settle down.

“Finished arguing already?” she asked, mouth tilting in a small smile. 

Damon raised an eyebrow, but the effect was weakened by his deathly pallor. He pressed his hands into the legs of his jeans, clenching at the material before speaking. 

“What you said just now… this is why you’re not Katherine. You care,” he said, and Elena frowned over at him.

“Yet I kissed Stefan on this very bench one night, and here I am stroking the animal equivalent of his brother,” she said critically, and Damon gave a weak smile.

“Admittedly, that is slightly weirder than anything Katherine did,” he said and Elena smiled in amusement. 

It was a wholly fucked up situation.

“I don’t know how to fix you two,” she told him, and that was the truth of the situation - she didn’t want to be caught in the middle because the argument was never really about her, it was always going to be about Stefan and Damon, as brothers. 

Damon breathed deeply.

“You don’t have to Elena. It’s not your job,”

“But until it’s fixed I can’t be here as your friend and have him as my boyfriend. We both know that could never work,” 

Damon glanced over at her then, gaze steady and evaluating. He took a moment before responding to that, as though figuring something out in his mind.

“Do you love him?” he asked, and Elena felt a chill other than the night pass through her. 

The earnesty in Damon’s voice made it impossible to lie, but Elena didn’t know which answer would be a lie.

“Yes,” she said eventually, “But I don’t know if he gets me properly. Sometimes he sees me as so young and innocent, like I’m just some mortal girl he has to protect.”

“And you’re more mature than that?” asked Damon with a teasing tone. 

Elena huffed in laughter.

“Don’t get me wrong, I am only 16 and I know that. But I’m not a kid, and I don’t always need protecting,”

“Only when you have a car crash?”

“Yeah, only when I have a car crash,” she said with a small smile quirking the corner of her lips. Damon looked over to her with a warm, almost fond smile. He could see the truth of Elena’s words, felt her honesty burning so brightly within her.

Damon closed his eyes then; trying valiantly to remember what 16 could feel like. Confusing, most definitely confusing. And love never stopped being a confusing decision. He sighed gently before speaking. 

“I came to town with a terrible plan to resurrect Katherine, and I would hurt anyone who got in my path. I even hurt the Donovan girl as a taunt,” he said with a low voice, and Elena blanched minutely.

“Vicki?” she asked, and Damon sighed, rolling his neck.

“I’m not a good person and all I wanted was Katherine. That’s why Stefan couldn’t know I was here, because he’d stop me. But it’s like I see Katherine properly now that I’ve known you,” he said, shifting his gaze away from Elena. 

She ran through his words in her mind, the callousness of what he’d done, but she shuttered it away. Stefan was hardly a saint either, and so she focused again on his words. 

“I spent over 100 years pining for her, but she wouldn’t do the same. Couldn’t, even when I was alive,” he finished, breathing deeply. 

It was like a switch had flicked in his mind and he realised all the things he’d been too blind to see before. How could he have been so blind?

“And… you’re better now?” asked Elena quietly, and Damon gave a single shake of his head.

“If I’m better it’s because I met you,” he said, and it was like a hole punched through Elena’s chest; the weight of the statement, the feeling of it, Damon’s sincerity. 

Elena’s mind scattered as the bad things he’d done dissipated, and she realised she wasn’t sure she’d ever felt something quite like this. Him unwavering in his words as though she’d  _ changed _ him.

Unthinkingly, she reached up and pressed her lips to Damon’s. It was brief, and soft, and so careful. And as she pulled back she felt a sharp twist in her stomach as self-hatred seeped through her blood.

“I shouldn’t- I can’t- I- Stefan,” she said, voice faltering on every word, “Stefan doesn’t deserve this.”

“Then choose,” said Damon, his voice barely above a whisper in the quickening darkness. 

Even the birds had finished their nightly song.

“I can’t. I don’t have enough answers. Or any answers. I don’t know anything. I take it back- I’m not mature at all,” she said quickly, and Damon laughed lightly.

“You’’ll never have all the answers Elena. I thought I knew everything when I came back for Katherine, but then I met you and everything changed.”

“Because you fell for me? The doppelganger?”

“No, I fell for you because you’re not manipulative and spiteful and you’re capable of love and forgiveness,” said Damon defiantly, and Elena let that statement settle in the air before asking the question she dreaded most.

“Would Stefan forgive me?” she asked finally, although what Stefan would have to forgive wasn’t quite clear. 

She couldn’t yet see what it was she could want. Damon narrowed his eyes as he looked at her, pupils widening in the growing dark.

“In time,” he told her truthfully, “and we have plenty of that, don’t we?”

Elena looked back at him, seeing that tiny twist at the corner of his lips. The brothers would have forever, and for Elena, her future was infinite enough. She still didn’t know what she planned or wanted, but she knew what was next.

“Damon?” she said softly, and Damon tilted his head, so entirely characteristic of her bird.

“Elena,” he replied, reverence seeping through that single word and it made her spine tingle with it.

“I need to talk to Stefan,” she said, and with that she stood up, following the overgrown and shadowed path back to the boarding house. 

Stefan heard Elena approach the house before he saw her, yet as she rounded the corner into the sitting room his face fell. She took the sofa across from him, a near mirror of how her and Damon had sat mere hours earlier. Stefan swallowed heavily as he struggled to maintain his expression. He felt like he already knew how this would go, had always known.

“I can’t be this,” she said simply, “I can’t be Katherine, and play you off one another. I refuse to be in the middle.”

Stefan accepted that, exhaling softly.

“So you choose him then?” he asked quietly, and Elena let out a low, almost exasperated sound.

“I choose me, Stefan. Neither of you were truly honest with me and I need time. And as Damon said, we have enough of that.”

“So what are you saying?” asked Stefan, avoiding her eyes.

“I’m saying let me go,” said Elena, “Let me be alone. I’ll still see you at school and I’ll still be your friend, but I’m Damon’s friend too. You need to accept that.”

“And what?” said Stefan, feeling his voice raise incrementally. It didn’t feel  _ fair.  _ “I’ll just hold out a flame in case one day you come back to me? Or worse I spend however long holding out a flame only to see you end up with Damon?”

Elena shook her head then, brow crinkling.   
“You holding out a flame for me is not my problem, Stefan. I can’t be held accountable for that. I love you both, and I can see that choosing either path will hurt me and hurt one of you and I can’t do that. So I’m choosing myself. And I’ll care about you both and love you both and who knows, maybe one day I will kiss you again, or kiss Damon, but that will be because I’m older. I don’t have any answers right now, and I don’t need them. I just need myself back,” she said, feeling herself become more impassioned with every word.

After her speech was done, Stefan remained quiet as though in stunned silence. Finally he spoke again, eyes widening in mirth.

“When did you get so mature?” he asked, and Elena smiled wanly.

“I’ve always been mature, Stefan,” she said, and that was the crux of it. 

This is where Stefan had been unable to see her, unable to  _ trust _ her with the truth. Except Elena wasn’t who she’d been six months ago, and Stefan needed to see that. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a chapter in which Elena spends a whole 2 seconds genuinely believing she is being proposed to - enjoy!

Elena went home after that. There wasn’t anything more to say, and she needed space. She walked back from the boarding house for the second time in as many days, and felt the strain of it in her thighs. They hardly lived close to one another, and she almost regretted not asking for a lift, but it would've undoubtedly ensued an argument of its own over who should take her. 

Elena shook her head to clear her thoughts - this was why she was walking away in the growing darkness, because she refused to be fought over like that. There was a sense of peace in the quiet of the early night, the birds that had sung so loud now dormant in their nests. There was still a vestige of light lingering in the air, but Elena’s path was lit by streetlights. 

She should have been afraid; a single girl walking alone at night, yet strangely her heart felt at peace for the first time in days. It was crisp and cool, the scent of coming rain light on the air. She’d be safe inside by the time the heavens opened. For a brief second Elena almost wished there was a crow swooping overhead, showing her the path and guiding her through the night, but she shook that thought free too. It wouldn’t be fair to either of them to let that happen again.

Naturally, Jenna was less than pleased to have a bedraggled Elena turn up on her step, hours after the school had rung its final bell, and she was even more unimpressed by the water dripping from her jacket. She hadn’t entirely escaped the night’s rain after all. Elena saw the worry underlying Jenna’s anger, and felt a bolt of guilt at having made her worry so; Jenna had started hovering more after the latest crash, and all this sneaking around of late had only made her more suspicious. 

Yet there wasn’t anything Elena could say that could reassure her - least of all that she’d been with her vampiric ex-boyfriend and his brother, who had also been recurrent in her dreams for the past six months. That wouldn’t sound crazy at all. And so Jenna heated Elena’s dinner without question and poured her a glass of orange juice before settling in front of the TV. 

And later, after Elena stacked the dishwasher and turned it on, she sidled beside Jenna on the couch and in a quiet voice told her that she broke up with Stefan. Jenna hugged her then and pressed a kiss to Elena’s hair. Elena wasn’t sure if she was sad or not; she did miss him, knowing that she couldn’t text him whenever she wanted, or phone him late at night in order to sneak out and kiss under the stars, yet she also knew that this was for the best. She was certain of it.

The doorbell rang then, jolting Elena and Jenna apart as both stared at the closed door in confusion. It was late for guests. Jenna stood and slid it open to reveal a tall, lean figure in a trademark leather jacket.

“Hi, um, is Elena in?” he asked, and at the sound of his voice Elena stood and joined Jenna at the door.

“Hi,” said Elena breathily, somehow as relieved as she was confused at Damon’s appearance on her porch. 

She stepped past Jenna onto the deck and with a reassuring look behind her, slid the door closed. No wonder Jenna kept giving her strange looks, having late night assignations on her front doorstep.

“Why are you here?” she asked immediately, back pressed against the solid wood of the front door. 

Damon kicked his foot against the top step before turning. Perhaps it was the faint light in the darkness, but Elena could’ve sworn Damon almost looked upset.

“You just left after speaking with Stefan,” he said, voice pitched low, “He said the two of you broke up? And that you’re gonna spend some time alone?”

Elena nodded then, lip caught between her teeth. She hadn’t gone back outside to explain herself, had just left Damon there under the sycamore tree.

“Okay,” he said, and Elena felt surprise bleed through her features. 

She’d almost expected more resistance. 

“You need time, and we’ve established we have plenty,” he continued, and a smile crept over her lips. 

“I have something for you then,” he said, seemingly accepting Elena’s reasoning without another question, but at his words her heart thudded heavily in her chest. 

He tucked a hand inside his leather jacket and pulled out a ring box, and without the door behind her, Elena was sure she’d crumple to the floor. Damon seemed to notice her worried expression and barked with laughter.

“God, Elena, no. I’m not proposing. Open it,” he instructed, and with shaking hands Elena did as she was bid. 

It was larger than Elena was used to, the band thick and the main feature a tight lattice of silvery metal. 

“Here,” said Damon quietly, taking it from the box and showing her the minute catch along the inner finger. Releasing it lifted the lattice from the base of the ring, revealing crushed purple petals tucked tight into the heart of the ring.

“Vervain,” he explained as he passed it back, letting Elena slide it onto her right ring finger. 

“It’ll stop vampires from being able to compel you or get inside your head,” he paused then, breath caught before continuing, “or your dreams.”

Elena looked up then, swallowing as she felt the weight of it heavy on her finger.

“I’ll miss them,” she said, so quiet it was almost inaudible.

“I know,” said Damon, nodding in agreement, “that’s why I have to give it to you. If I don’t I think I would keep showing up on your windowsill.”

“Thank you,” said Elena, smiling gratefully at him. 

He was protecting himself as much as he was protecting her in handing it over. Looking down at her hand, she was surprised to see how natural the ring felt against her skin. It wouldn’t be so hard having to wear it daily. He looked at her once more, eyes connecting briefly, before nodding politely and stepping off of the porch to walk into the night. Back inside, Jenna peered at Elena from over the couch and asked bluntly if she broke up with Stefan for him. The disapproval was visible from across the room, but Elena laughed in response.

“He might look dangerous but he’s not. That’s Stefan’s brother, Damon,” she said, and felt the rightness of the two names on her tongue. 

They always came together, and Elena realised that now. Despite years apart they would be Salvatore brothers before anything else, and Elena pulled her eyes shut at the realisation. This might just be harder than she expected. 

Yet time moved on and the world kept tilting on its axis, spinning day on day towards the future. Life wasn’t without awkwardness; being put together for a history project and sitting quietly in Stefan’s room, where only months ago she’d been naked in his bed. Or, catching Damon’s eyes from across the Grill, as he drank more than any human could handle and Elena ate her dinner with Bonnie and Caroline. 

Trying to keep the latter from having the world’s largest, most obvious crush on Damon was a full time job in itself. She also had a habit of showing off in front of him with minimal self restraint, earning an eye roll from Elena and a quirk of Damon’s eyebrow. Elena didn’t feel good laughing behind her friend’s back but Caroline really had no idea what she was playing with. Life continued though, and it worked. Stefan and her realised that sticking to studying in his library was the best option, and Elena managed to meet Damon’s gaze impassively as he collected Stefan from school. They figured it out, and it almost wasn’t awkward.

It wouldn’t be Mystic Falls if things didn’t progressively go to shit. The plot to open the tomb of vampires was uncovered and Damon managed to look mostly unbothered. Mostly; Elena can’t miss the twitch in his eye at the thought that Katherine might be right there, just within reach. Except it disappeared and something like relief washed over his expression when they stop Anna before she can go through with it. Some secrets are best left buried, and Elena said as much to Damon. He reached out then and pressed a fleeting kiss to her forehead before telling her that she was getting wiser by the day. Elena turned her face then, hiding the fact she blushed under the attention.

Before winter became spring, her and Jeremy spent their first Christmas alone, yet Jenna pulled out all the stops and Elena felt warm and safe beside the hearth, the dark, cold morning peering through the window as she handed out her gifts. Spring came with challenges of its own and the end of her junior year loomed ever closer, coinciding with an anniversary Elena wished she could completely forget, yet better times were on their way.


	13. Chapter 13

April turned to May and Elena spent the day of the crash mostly alone. She woke up and sent a group text to Bonnie and Caroline, reassuring them that she was okay and just needed her space. Breakfast was a quiet affair before Jenna drove her and Jeremy to the cemetery, where together they left a fresh bunch of flowers and spent a moment’s silence gazing at their headstone. It still looked new amongst the others, the stone not yet marred by the weather. 

Eventually Jeremy turned away first, and after a beat longer Elena turned away too. With a wan smile to Jenna she refused a lift home, instead wanting to walk and clear her head. Jenna nodded in understanding and headed to the parking lot with Jeremy beside her, leaving Elena alone in the cemetery. Not for the first time, Elena was immensely grateful that Jenna didn’t ask. 

She turned in the opposite direction and began walking with no aim in sight. It was only after an hour or so, with sweat collecting along her spine and the sun beating down on her face did Elena realise that she was subconsciously heading towards the other cemetery in town, the one in which she’d first met Damon. Upon realising she didn’t turn back, though, instead continuing along the overgrown footpath through the woods. It would be peaceful at least, well away from prying eyes. Mystic Falls was small enough that everyone knew what today meant to her, and none of the residents were smart enough to avert their gaze in time. 

Elena arrived at the Civil War cemetery and came first to Honoria’s headstone. She pressed her hand to the cool granite, grateful for the coldness of the stone and its familiarity. Of course the image wasn’t quite complete, but Elena had become used to not having the crow in her life. She twisted Damon’s vervain ring on her finger, reassured by its weight and hating it in the same breath. It had been necessary, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t miss the black corvid that had haunted her steps. 

She stepped past Honoria and around the green leafy tree to stand before the tall mausoleum. It somehow seemed bigger than it had in her dreams, more impressive in the day than it had been at night. And only now, by the light of day, did Elena see what she had never been able to see previously. This wasn’t any old mausoleum; it belonged to the Salvatore’s, and she was sure as sin that if she were to enter there would be space dedicated to a supposed dead Stefan and Damon. 

She huffed a breath of laughter then; no wonder Damon had been so damn eager to show it to her and reveal Stefan’s secret when he’d been the crow, nor was it unsurprising that he’d come here after being shot by the hunter. That had been an entire problem in itself but the pair of them had taken care of Logan Fell, lifting an unknown weight from her shoulders. It had been months since she’d been here, either in her dreams or reality. It felt like a lifetime, and the crash felt like a lifetime beyond that. Could so much have really changed in only a year?

Elena pressed her hands against the warm metal grating of the mausoleum, peering through into the darkness. She gave the bars a short tug before letting go and sliding down to sit on the top step. It was silly of her, but she almost expected there to be a stain of blood on the stone steps, from where Damon had been bleeding so long. Her eyes closed against the bright May sun, head propped up in her hands as she breathed slowly. It was quiet, and peaceful, and warm. Elena couldn’t think of anywhere she’d rather be in that exact moment.

A twig snapped nearby, and Elena’s head twitched upwards, eyes blinking rapidly against the light. As her vision cleared, Elena felt a smile draw over her lips as she watched Damon approach carefully. He came to stop a short distance away, looking down at her with an unreadable expression. Elena schooled her face into something resembling calm, refusing to voice the relief inside. She’d hoped it’d be him, and more than that, she’d hoped in the darkest corner of her mind that he’d come and find her today.   
“I thought I’d find you here,” he said, and Elena nodded once.

“It’s quiet.”

“How are you doing?” he asked, coming to settle beside her on the steps, knees a hair breadth from touching. 

Elena slanted a long look towards him.

“I mean, I’m sad I guess. Not as sad as I expected. I… I don’t think I could ever move on completely,” she began, hands making vague shapes in the air as though she could explain herself through gesture alone. 

Elena wasn’t entirely how she did feel.

“But I can accept it. Things happen. Life happens. You just have to deal with it.”

Damon didn’t respond then, instead curling his hand over the back of hers as they grasped at her kneecap. It was the smallest gesture, a million words packed into it and Elena glanced carefully at him from the corner of her eye. His palm was soft and warm, the heat of his body as confusing to her as Stefan’s had been. Vampire biology was entirely illogical, but beyond that a tendril of tenderness crept through her heart. Like a whisper through the gentle breeze in the trees, Elena spoke again.

“I’m sorry for hurting you and Stefan.”

Damon looked at her strangely, seemingly confused by the twist the conversation had taken.

“Hurting us?” he asked with a characteristic tilt of his head.

“I just feel like I’ve been trying so hard to be neutral, and it’s worked, hasn’t it. But it can’t have been easy on either of you. Mystic Falls is hardly a big town,” she said, and caught the weight of the truth heavy on his gaze. 

She wasn’t wrong. Damon dropped his eyes then and pulled his hand back, the now exposed skin of her hand cold to the air.

“I think Stefan and I were born to fight one another and be in competition. It’s the way we are and always have been. For sure this is one of our better periods together, but we’ll always fight,” he said, giving her a slight sardonic smile before continuing, “there’s been less bloodshed, either way.”

Elena let out a huff of laughter and retrieved his hand, pressing it between her own on top of her knees.

“Are you saying I might actually have been beneficial?” she asked, amusement crinkling at the corners of her eyes.

“I’m not saying you haven’t been,” said Damon at length, refusing to give her ground. 

Elena grinned then, clasping his hand harder before leaning up and pressing their lips together. It was startlingly soft and quick, a dry chaste kiss that caught Damon by surprise. He lifted an eyebrow at her as she pulled back, asking a silent question.

“I do love you both you know,” she said, and felt her chest seize with it. 

“But?”

“But… Stefan and I. We’ll always be better as friends, I think. I wasn’t in a good place when we met, not really. And he’ll never stop trying to protect me from stuff. I don’t know if he’ll ever trust me with the truth.”

Damon absorbed that information, tongue darting out to wet his lips before he spoke.

“But you trust me?” he asked, and Elena closed her eyes against the intensity of his stare.

“I miss you,” she told him honestly. “More than you miss him?”   
“Every night,” she whispered, as though it was her worst secret. 

She had been neutral all winter, had tried her damnedest, but every night as she closed her eyes, Elena had wished she could see Damon in her dreams just one last time. He was still looking at her, gaze critical as he took in her downcast eyes, hands clenched around his. He kissed her this time, slipping his hand from her grasp to press at the side of her jaw as he tilted her head closer. With a startled breath, Elena returned the kiss easily, letting Damon’s tongue sweep into her mouth as she clutched at the short hair at his nape.

It was hot and wet, Elena pulling away first with a sharp breath. Damon’s eyes opened and this close, Elena could see the sheen of vulnerability through the bright blue of his gaze. 

“How much will Stefan hate us?” she asked, forcing space between them. 

She was concerned that if he kissed her again, she wouldn’t have the strength to pull back.

“At first? A lot,” said Damon, sliding his hand away from her neck, “but he’ll understand eventually. And still love us.”

The certainty in his voice cleared Elena’s mind of its frightened freefall. He would still love them, in time. He’d always love Damon, that much was clear, and Elena felt his love for her like an extra chamber in her heart. Regardless of their relationship status, that would always exist. She hummed in agreement and understanding then, and kissed Damon again, letting herself press close to him and feeling the warmth of his skin through his shirt, the rapid beat of a nonexistent pulse under her thumb on his neck. 

Her tongue slid in his mouth, pressing against his and Damon’s hand twitched along the small of her back, self-restraint failing with every soft breath as his whole body shook with the desire to press Elena against the stone steps and take her. Finally she put a restraining hand on his chest, lips wet and reddened as she spoke roughly.

“Stefan has to know first,” she uttered, and Damon managed a quick nod in response.

“Yeah,” he said, voice gravelly as he smiled against her lips in one final kiss. 

Damon drove her to the boarding house and let her go speak to Stefan alone, leaving her on the doorstep as he pulled away. He opened the door and saw the tail end of Damon’s car spin away, and already knew what was coming. He took it rather gracefully, stood across from Elena on the expanse of the portico. 

“I know, Elena. I understand. It’s okay,” he told her, voice quiet.

“Would we still be able to be friends?” she asked, hands twisted in front of her. 

Stefan caught her gaze before looking away, breath exhaling roughly.

“We have that summer biology project together either way,” he said, and Elena accepted that with a quick laugh. 

It’d be enough for now. She stepped closer and looked at him, eyes catching.

“Did you hold out a flame?” she asked hesitantly, but Stefan shook his head.

“I think I knew then that me and you couldn’t be forever.”

“Aren’t I a bit young forever?”

Stefan laughed broadly then, true amusement plain on his face.

“Not when you date vampires,” he said, and Elena laughed too.

“Thank you,” she said, and Stefan nodded.

“I forgive you,” he said simply, and it really was as simple as that. 

They might not be perfect friends for a while; it was a weird thing to date your ex’s brother, but Stefan knew it as Elena did. They were destined to be friends foremost. She nodded in understanding before turning to go, only looking back as Stefan called her name.

“I never saw you as Katherine, y’know,” said Stefan, and an unknown weight lifted from Elena, “She could never have done this for Damon and I. All she did was hurt us and pit us against one another.”

Elena nodded and smiled graciously then, accepting this without a word, before turning once more and heading home. She walked home from the boarding house for the first time in months, but under the slowly dying sun she savoured every step. 

As she neared her house she spotted a lone figure sitting on the top step of her porch, leather jacket distinct on the hottest day of the year so far. His eyes were closed to the last vestiges of sunlight, only opening as he heard her steps down the driveway. Silently she joined him in the sun, pressed against him from ankle to shoulder.

“Stefan?” asked Damon softly, and Elena smiled.

“He knows.”

“And?”

“I think he always knew,” she said, Damon turning to look at her and seeing the truth of it. 

Perhaps Stefan had always known that it would come to this, that this is how fate would play. Elena felt a blush creep through her cheeks at his unrelenting look, realising in that moment that he was always looking at her, one way or another. He ran his thumb over the skin of her cheek, feeling the sunkissed warmth and strong bone, finally coming to rest as his hand tangled in her hair. 

“Elena,” he breathed, her name a reverent exhale. 

She tipped forward to kiss him again, basking in the heat of his stare as she pulled him close, feeling his tender strength in the sweep of his tongue and his ferocity in the bite of her lower lip. It was perfect, her chest bursting as they pulled apart.

“Come upstairs?” she asked breathily, and Damon didn’t need to be asked twice.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and here we have it, the final chapter! 
> 
> warnings again for the smut in this chapter

That evening, long after Damon had left and Jenna had returned, Elena slid between the clean sheets of her bed and closed her eyes, images unbidden flashing through her mind. 

There’d been a clench of nerves low in her belly as she’d stood in front of Damon, his mouth insistent on hers and his hands dragging through her hair. She’d slid her hands under his shirt, felt the strength of his stomach and the long lines of his back, fingers marking out each bump on his spine. She’d only really done this with one other person, but Damon kept her grounded, forcing her mind towards his lips, his tongue pressing into her mouth, the heat of his hands on her neck. 

She’d unbuttoned his shirt slowly, watching each centimetre of skin that it revealed as he slid it from his shoulders, flexing the thick muscle there. She’d grinned appreciatively, hands running over his smooth chest and pressing softly at his nipples. He’d returned in kind, lifting her shirt over her head to reveal the blue lace of her bra and the faint tan beginning to glow. A bolt of anxiety and shame shifted through Elena’s body, and she resisted the urge to press her arms over her chest and hide herself, yet as she looked up and saw Damon’s heady gaze, the swollen bite of his lower lip, she felt herself flush. He was looking at her like she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, and that curled deep in her body.

She kissed him again then, forcing his eyes closed as she could no longer bear the intensity of his gaze. He pressed her against the bed softly, hand lowering her head to the sheets as she grabbed at his hips, pulling them flush together. Elena could feel his hardness against her hip, and more than anything wanted to see it, feel it, watch his face as he felt apart beneath her. 

She made to tug at his belt, but Damon reacted first and flipped Elena’s jeans undone, taking them off in one sweep and leaving her in her underwear. That familiar nervous-embarrassment flared once more, but Elena shook it free and stretched her legs out, elongating the lines of her body and pressing her hips closer to Damon. 

He looked at her a beat longer, that same incredulous wonder creeping through his expression before he kissed her again thoroughly, letting her tongue slide between his lips as he slid a hand between her parted thighs, single finger pressing at her clit over her panties and feeling the warm wetness there. She sighed into his mouth and he repeated the motion, the barest glance of pressure through the fabric.

Finally he dipped his hand under the waistband and with two fingers, ran insistent circles over the tender hardness there. Elena’s lip caught between her teeth and her eyes slid closed of their own accord, and Damon watched her face as he continued to tease circles over her clit, seeing the strain in her breathing and the tense lines in her jaw.

Without warning he moved his fingers lower and pressed just inside of her and she gasped audibly, eyes flying open and capturing the darkened blue of Damon’s in her gaze. Elena was feeling undone, but Damon looked that way already, his irises given over to dilated pupils and his lips wet and shining. He moved further inside her, Elena relaxing her breathing through that first burn of pain and letting him in. He crooked upwards and Elena’s breath caught, tension knotting in her stomach with the need for _more_ , _please God more_. 

She reached down to undo his belt as she’d originally intended, and Damon got the message and slid his fingers from her. He was about to undo his own trousers when Elena caught his wrist and brought his hand to her mouth, his expression dropping completely as she licked against his two fingers, tasting herself on his hand. She drew the fingers into her mouth, suckling at them and swiping her tongue against the pads of his tips, and Damon felt his pants grow incrementally tighter. Finally he pulled them free with a soft noise, stopping himself from seeing Elena’s spit-soaked lips as he managed to undo his trousers and yank them and his boxers off and onto the floor. 

Elena’s eyes dropped to his hard length, and her expression was more unguarded than his was as sheer _want_ flooded through her. Almost tentatively she reached out and took him in her grasp, hand warmed from where it’d clung to his shoulder. Elena slid her hand over his length, feeling its hardness and its thickness in her palm and the velvety softness of his foreskin. She repeated the motions over and over with a flick of her wrist as Damon groaned against her lips, kissing her with new ferocity as his brain shortcircuited to only the twisting pleasure low in his body. 

With brief coherence he wrapped a hand over Elena’s back and unclipped her bra, Elena pausing in her motions long enough to let it slip from her shoulders and Damon immediately bending his head to mouth at the supple skin of her breast and dragging her nipple into his mouth. Elena slid her free hand in Damon’s ruffled hair, fingers curling over the roots as he swiped his tongue over the hardening nipple, pressing rough indents with his teeth before moving to her other breast. 

Without thinking, Elena dragged at the roots, yanking at Damon’s hair as he kissed at her other breast, and there was no denying the ragged groan that escaped his throat. Elena tensed at the sound, pausing for a beat before pulling at his hair again and lifting his head up. His eyes were glazed over and cheeks flushed, his mind struggling at coherence. He slid his eyes back into focus to see Elena’s bright eyes and the cheeky curve to her lips.

“Elena?” he asked, voice rough and her smile widened, hand coming to a stop at the base of his cock.

“You learn something new everyday,” she said before surging forward to kiss him wetly, hands moving down her body to rid herself of her last underwear and pressing herself close to his hard body. 

His hands grabbed at her hips, pulling their bodies close once more, thumbs digging into the dips behind her hipbone. He pulled away momentarily to look down at her, naked and trembling beneath him, and his breath seized in his chest.

“Damon,” she said once, wrapping her legs over his thighs, and that was all the encouragement he needed, taking himself in one hand and pressing inside her with a slow slide of his hips. 

He paused halfway, hearing Elena recollect her breathing and relax herself before pushing inside entirely, fully seated within her. He couldn’t control the sound that left his own throat then, the wet tightness wrapped around his cock so immeasurably good he barely wanted to move. The heel of Elena’s foot pressed into the base of his spine then, and he grinned at her, pulling out as slowly as he’d entered to an abject whine beneath him. 

With a teasing glint in his eye he slammed back into her, pulling out and slamming into her again and earning a strangled noise from her throat. At that he set a fast pace, hips twitching as he pressed into her with an urgency, face buried to the crook of her neck as she crossed her ankles over his hips and pulled him closer. Her nails buried into the skin of his shoulders with angry red scratches as Elena fought to control her breathing, it coming in hot gasps in Damon’s ear. She could feel the building tension in her stomach, the aching need for _more_ thrumming through every beat of her heart as she slid a hand between them, feeling her own wetness as Damon thrust inside her, fingers settling over her clit and pressing down in quick, sharp circles. 

Damon lifted his head enough to slide a look down the length of Elena’s body, to where he himself was entering and where her hand rubbed urgently at her clit, Elena’s head tossed against the pillow at the dual sensations, throat bared. He mouthed at her pulse then, a show of self restraint if nothing else, feeling the heat building through his every muscle at the pounding blood beneath his teeth and at the tight clenching around his cock. He remembered what it’d be like to tear at her throat then, to feel the hot wetness thicken in his mouth and slide so beautifully down his throat as he came inside her, but he lifted his gaze to face her then. 

_Elena_. 

She looked like everything he’d ever dreamed of, her head thrown back so beautifully as her arm muscles strained at the constant exertion over her clit. Her eyes slid open, pupils darkened and heady, lips parted in unspoken gasps. With her free hand, Elena slid it into Damon’s hair and gave an almighty tug at the roots, forcing him to tip his head back into the pressure and he groaned loudly, brain switching off entirely as his hips stuttered in their rhythm, feeling Elena tighten around in, surrounding him completely, and Damon was coming then, throat exposed and jaw dropped as Elena maintained the pull of his hair. 

Finally she released him, hand still working furiously between their bodies, and as Damon recovered his senses he could see her on the precipice, lip caught in her teeth as the tension in her belly reached a biting point. He thrust again, his cock still inside of her, and again, forcefully, and that was enough for Elena as she came too with an unbidden moan, hips bucking up into her own hand and pressing against his cock. She continued circling her fingers over her clit for a moment longer before slipping her hand away and over her thigh, and Damon slid his cock from her then, still poised over her languid body as he watched her features relax in that sleepy, post-coital way.

“Elena,” he breathed then, marvelling at the way he was still able to speak at all. 

She hummed in response, managing to open her eyes just enough to gaze over to him. A smile gently graced her lips, and she ran an arm over his shoulders where her scratches were neatly healing, in order to pull him close to her. Bonelessly he sank against her prone body, pressed together from head to toe in the warmth of early evening.

“That was good,” she said eventually into the silence of her room, and Damon nodded against her shoulder.

“Thank you,” he said, and felt her smile against his hair, where she pressed the softest kiss. Elena knew it was only the hormones speaking, but she had the overwhelming urge to tell Damon that she loved him then, barely managing to damp down the words as they rose in her throat. Whether hormones or not, she doubted he’d appreciate them at this moment, immediately after their first time.

Her eyes slid closed then, already replaying what had just happened. It’d been good, and Elena was surprised to find she didn’t hate how wordless it’d been. As though there had been no need for words, her every desire unspoken yet granted. She ran a hand through Damon’s hair and felt his repressed shiver, and chuckled aloud.

“Why am I not surprised,” she told him, and Damon laughed in response. 

Of course Damon would like having his hair pulled like that. She wasn’t sure why, but it made sense for Elena. 

Finally they pulled apart, not least because Jenna would return before long and Elena doubted she’d be happy to find her only niece in bed like this. So Damon took a speedy shower and redressed before Elena followed suit, hair tied in a bun out of the way. She walked him to her front door in a clean navy summer dress, a leftover from a previous summer that she doubted she’d wear again. He kissed her on the threshold, thumb smoothing over her cheeks in its gentleness. Damon’s duality never ceased to amaze her; how a man who could kiss and caress with such tenderness could fuck with such carnality was a mystery unto itself.

“I’ll see you later,” he said, the side of his mouth lifting cheekily as he stepped off of Elena’s porch, and all she could manage was a dazed nod in response. 

Changing her sheets had been a quick process, and having dinner with Jenna and Jeremy had been just about bearable, but as Elena lay alone in her bed that night she felt a shiver run through her body. Surely it hadn’t been only a matter of hours ago that Damon had been here, kissing her and touching her like that? It almost felt dream worthy, and she sighed at the thought, fingers automatically reaching up to twist at the ring she always wore. Damon’s parting words on the doorstep flashed through her mind, and Elena’s eyes darted open. Surely he couldn’t mean… her fingers tightened on the ring, feeling the constant warmth of. 

In the shadowy night of her room, Elena slid it free for the first time in months and gazed at it, the inside worn smooth from wearing, and the outer roughened by everyday use. It still seemed to shine however, the delicate lattice work over the top still glinting in the moonlight as she turned it over and over. Lifting it to her nose, Elena could smell something faint from inside the ring; it wasn’t dissimilar to lavender, but had a distinct scent that was much heavier and darker.

She toyed with it for a moment longer before decisively placing it on her nightstand out of reach. It was a longshot that anything would come of it, as she’d worn it everyday since it had been gifted to her, but today had been different. It had been beautiful. Elena rolled over and closed her eyes, hopeful for the night ahead. 

_She awoke on Old Wickery Bridge, and there wasn’t even a glimmer of surprise. A year to the day since everything had changed, and she was back again. Relief swept through her; there was no clawing panic and startled breathing, just her, alone. Except as she turned to her left she was even more unsurprised to see her crow, dark feathers thick and intelligible eye glistening and roving. He cawed excitedly at her, hopping briefly at its perch, and Elena felt a movement of air and spun again to find that even her and her crow were not alone. Damon stood behind her, in the flesh._

_“Is it really you?” she asked almost incredulously, taking an automatic step forward towards him._

_“Well, this is a dream, Elena,” he said with a cheerful hint of snark, and Elena refrained from rolling her eyes._

_“I mean, could you always do this?” she asked, spreading her arms in indication of his full human form._

_Damon shrugged with a glittering smile, holding out his arm for her to take._

_“I liked the mysteriousness of a crow,” he told her, and Elena couldn’t say she disagreed._

_With a smile she put her hand over his arm and let him lead her down the road, their crow flying far overhead and showing them the way. It was warm out, Elena’s tank top and shorts seeming scarce when Damon was fully dressed, yet she didn’t feel at all cold. Summer was just around the corner, its humid heat already making itself known. Excitement climbed through her body; last summer had been useless and scary and lonely, so Elena was determined to make the most of this one. She already had half a dozen plans with Bonnie and Caroline, and a grand idea that Bonnie would take them roadtripping._

_They walked in comfortable silence together, Damon seemingly content to watch the crow fly a few meters ahead of them, and Elena focusing on her surroundings. Eventually they came to a stop on an empty road, large houses with gated driveways looming on either side. Elena looked down the rest of the road and saw a number of other, similarly fancy houses lining the verges. The sight of the neighbourhood triggered something within her, like a memory she couldn’t quite access. She shook her head viscerally._

_“Damon? Have I been here before?” she asked quietly, and Damon glanced down at her carefully._

_“I doubt you’d want to remember this place,” he said, and Elena frowned deeply, looking around herself in confusion._

_Familiarity was there, a hair breadth away, but the answer was just out of reach. With a sickening wave she remembered, the memories flooding through her like an avalanche. That stupid, stupid party had been here. The one that had meant missing family night; where Matt had drank beer and argued with her; where her parents had left to come pick her up. Damon watched the realisation lurch through her and grabbed her other arm, turning her to face him._

_“Hey, hey, breathe Elena. Do you trust me?” he said quickly._

_Elena dragged her eyes to his face, feeling tension slide from her as she took in his familiar features and the dreamy edges to his image. She nodded, and he leaned forward to kiss her carefully, feeling her melt against him. He pulled back, looking directly into her eyes. As he spoke, the only thing Elena could focus on was the dilation-contraction of his pupils drawing her in._

_“I want you to remember this night,” he said clearly, “All of it.”_

_Elena blinked rapidly, drawing her eyes away from his and feeling a fresh memory configure itself in her mind. Not the party, or Matt, or Caroline kissing a football boy, but standing right here with Damon, as she was now. He had spoken to her, confusion and concern crossing his face. He’d smiled at her that night, and Elena felt an identical one turn at her lips as she lifted her fingers to touch them, the ghost of a memory drifting through her._

_“I remember,” she said faintly._

_“I told you that you want a love that consumes you. That you want passion. And adventure. And maybe even danger.”_

_She nodded, feeling the words he spoke now aligning with the ones spoken a year ago. Elena closed her eyes to the weight of them; it had felt so brokenly honest when he’d first said them, as though he’d seen right through her. A year had passed and everything was changed._

_“Do I have that now?” she asked, keeping her eyes closed as she spoke._

_“We can have that, if you want. I know you still want it,” he said, and she swallowed thickly._

_That was what she still wanted; everything but that had changed. And she saw the fire within Damon, the passion and anger and pain and knew it was mirrored in herself._

_“I want it,” she said, opening her eyes finally._

_Damon was smiling at her, eyes bright in his pale face._

_“I just didn’t want that secret between us,” he told her, voice low in the silent night._

_Elena nodded her understanding, reached out to press her hands to his chest, his shoulders, his arms, feeling his solidity and his strength._

_“Damon,” she breathed and his own breath caught in his chest._

_He’d never tire of hearing Elena say his name like that. It felt like a prayer._

_“You shouldn’t have made me forget that,” she said, eyes catching his in almost reproval._

_He swallowed, thinking on his words._ _  
_ _“Elena, no one could know that I was in town yet. I wasn’t… I wasn’t a good person yet.”_

_“Are you good now?”_

_“I doubt I’ll ever truly be a good man. And nothing could ever atone for the things I’ve already done.”_

_Elena gave a quick shake of her head._

_“I see it in you,” she said, and Damon felt every muscle in his body relax, tension he hadn’t been aware of slipping away._

_That inherent belief that Elena had in him made his heart stop for a dead beat before continuing on. He didn’t feel he deserved it, but she did believe in him. It could well be his downfall, but he chose to simply accept it then, tugging her body close and kissing her again. Elena was pulled to her tiptoes, hands automatically reaching to clasp at Damon’s hair, dragging his lips closer and feeling him throughout her body as their crow soared high overhead, his caws sounding deeply through the dark night._

_Elena felt complete again. Felt real, and human again. Nothing could ever replace her family, and that part of her would always be intrinsically missing, but here, now, kissing Damon in the depths of her dreams; Elena felt more alive than she ever had before. With a certainty that ran through her blood, Elena knew that this was her path that she alone had chosen to walk. She loved him, now and forever._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this fic! it really took a lot out of me because I'm not used to writing long/multi-chap fics but I think I'm happy with how this turned out?
> 
> any constructive crit. is super welcome (esp. when it comes to smut as that realllyyy stresses me to write lmao) but basically let me know what you think!!
> 
> stay safe everyone x


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